


Book One: Genis-Vell & Mar-Vell

by BloodyMary, Shanxara



Series: Clan Mar-Vellous [1]
Category: Captain Marvel (Marvel Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Female Friendship, Fix-Fic, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mentions of Sex, Mostly Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Sexual Abuse, Snark, We Are Bringing People Back From the Dead, feminism 101, journey of self-discovery, mentions of victim blaming, past abusive relationships, tw: rape (mention)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 62
Words: 96,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9827054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyMary/pseuds/BloodyMary, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shanxara/pseuds/Shanxara
Summary: First part of the story in which we indulge ourselves and bring back Mar-Vell and his children, and try to fix their issues. At least a little bit. (But we will try to keep it close to canon.)++COMPLETE++ Continued in Book Two: Phyla-Vell





	1. Prologue

 

> **twinkle twinkle little star**

There is nothing.

A human mind cannot truly ever comprehend the idea of complete absence—it will seek to fill it with some concept. And yet, with unshakeable certainty, Melissa knows that there is nothing around her. No heat to warm her. No light for her to see by. No sound for her to hear.

A cold empty void that drains all that she is and ever was.

She feels panic welling up inside of her, but it's a dull shadow of the actual feeling. Soon, she will be nothing, too.

And then she sees him.

His eyes are wide with fear and his mouth is still moving, though no sound escapes. It doesn't need to—she knows the words.

“Give me another chance.”

He's dead. She saw him- She saw Zemo kill him. She owes him this much at least—not to sugar-coat, not to pretend it was anything else but murder. And she stood by and watched.

She knows he can't hear her, and won't feel her reach out to him, and that it's not really him, only her own mind pulling out yet another thing she will regret, but she brushes her fingers against his cheek anyway. It's warm and leaves an odd tingling sensation on her hand.

“I'm sorry. There was nothing I could have done.”

There's no change in his expression. His lips move again, forever repeating the same plea. But then, it's not him that she is trying to convince. She asks herself if there was anything she could have done, knowing what would have happened if Genis had lived. She had seen the end he would cause, and yet...

And yet, she wants to run away, and never see Genis in the darkness, trapped in a moment of terror without end. She wants it to never have happened. Like so many other things.

“I can't help you,” she says. “I never had anything like a proper education, I don't understand what you were going through—you showed me you'd end everything, but not how to stop it. We had no time—maybe if you'd trusted me... Helmut had a solution. I just don't know what I could have done differently.”

Her only answer are words that she cannot hear.

“Give me another chance.”

He will keep repeating them forever, as far as she knows. He will never be able to escape—he will remain trapped, so that others can live. If the dream is anything other than her own bad conscience, then it's the wrong person dreaming it. There is nothing she can do.

“You're dead, Genis,” she says softly. “I can't help you. You're nothing other than my guilty conscience—so, let him rest. That's about the only thing I can do for him.”

 

 

 

> **It’s a kind of magic**

A moment before, Carol had been hitting Abigail Brand with a cheeseburger. Now, the very same cheeseburger is stuck in Mar-Vell's hair. Carol is standing with her hand hovering over his head, eyes wide with horror.

“You have very interesting dreams,” he says as he peels out an onion.

“Oh. That's a dream,” Carol replies and pulls her hand away. “That makes sense.”

“It was a dream,” Mar-Vell replies solemnly. “Now it's a vision.”

A bit of tomato and patty slides down to his shoulder.

“Uh... Sorry about it,” Carol says awkwardly and picks it off. “But my second-in-command is really ticking me off. Always dumping paperwork and diplomacy on me while being gleeful about it.“  She pauses and takes a deep breath. “So, I guess it means I want to hit her with a cheeseburger.”

“That does sound rather like a bore,” Mar-Vell replies, as he takes bits of bun out of his hair.

“Since this is a mystical vision thing, can't you... mystic the cheeseburger out?” Carol volunteers after a moment.

It earns her a very dejected look. “I'm not a wizard.”

Carol shakes her head. “Well, that sucks. I guess we will have to make do with what we have.”

She gestures around herself. It looks sort of like her apartment, only behind the windows there is a vista of stars.

“Mhm.” Mar-Vell nods which causes some sauce and cheese to slide down his nose. It falls down completely and goes plop.

“Don't worry, it's just my dream floor,” Carol says waving her hand. “Oh! Hey, you could use my dream bathroom.”

Which is probably not like mystical dream visions go, but Carol supposes that it will have to do. Certainly, it does not appear like Mar-Vell minds that it's being derailed, since he takes off in the direction of the bathroom. Then, just as she hears water running, the realisation finally hits her. So, she rushes inside.

“Wait! Hold on! You're dead! Why are you showing up now?”

That seems to organically lead to Mar-Vell getting dream shampoo in his eye and to another snag in the dream vision thing.

“Sorry,” Carol says, once Mar-Vell is wrapped in two towels. “Just tell me the mystic quest part.”

Mar-Vell's expression changes—his jaw is set and his eyes narrow. “I have a son. Elysius created him.”

“Genis-Vell,” Carol says, and starts fiddling with her nails. “We've met, but I never really tried to get to know him. I would have probably treated him horribly, or told him something stupid...”

“That makes you one of the people who were considerate towards him,” Mar-Vell says. He takes a deeper breath and continues. “He's not dead.”

“You want me to help him,” Carol says. It makes her feel... well, warm and tingly, really. Because even if it's the son of the man she loved most and another woman, it's still her whom Mar-Vell trusts to help Genis. And then, she wonders why.

“Yes,” Mar-Vell says. “Find him.”

Carol puts her hand over his. She doesn't really bother to think about the odds—it's enough that he's asking her. “I will.”

“Thank you,” Mar-Vell replies quietly.

“Do you want me to kick someone's ass?” she asks. “I can do that too.”

“No,” he says, and brushes his fingers against her cheek. “But can you not involve anyone on Titan?”

“Hm, sure, but why?” Carol asks, and thinks again that he is asking her and not Genis's mother. True, he was not involved in Genis's conception, but they had been together before he died. There's something she is missing.

“Because Elysius did enough damage already,” Mar-Vell says after a tense moment. “I'd rather not talk about it right now—I'll explain later, I promise.”

Had it been anyone else, Carol would have pried. But this Mar-Vell, and Carol knows that if he's saying something like this, she can trust him fully. So she nods. “Sure.”

She leans forward and kisses his cheek, her hand resting on his shoulder.

That makes him smile. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Carol says, and wraps her arms around him tightly. She rests her head on his shoulder. It feels real and solid. “Do you have to go now?”

“No, not really,” he replies.

“Good, because I am on shore leave”, Carol answers.

 

 

> **Wild women do  
>  And they don't regret it**

It has taken her some time—quite a long time, really—but Una-Rogg has realized that for most of her life she has been a horrible person. It has not been an epiphany—it has been days, and weeks, and months after Genis-Vell has saved her and she has been wandering in exile, with no other company but herself, which isn’t the most pleasant.

To say that it has been an awful time would be quite an understatement. But she is Una-Rogg, and she prevails. If for no other reason, then just so that Ronan would not have the satisfaction of knowing she was too weak and perished.

Truth to be told, the bitter old bastard probably did her a favour—she had been away from the Annihilation War or the thing with the techno virus. Away from trouble. Away from news as well—she has found out that Genis-Vell is dead long after it happened 

Not that anybody knows anything, when she starts asking around. Only that it happened on Earth—where else? They managed to drive away Galactus, after all. Several times.

He did not deserve that. She is quite certain of it. She has tried to kill him and worse, and he still came to save her. Yes, it was grudging, and everything, but in the end, it is still more than anyone could reasonably expect from him.

So, like an idiot with no self-preservation instinct whatsoever, Una-Rogg heads back to Earth. She would find out what happened and then... Well, she likely couldn't get any justice for Genis-Vell—whatever could kill him, would likely destroy her with a sneeze—but maybe she could find someone else who would.

She'd pay her debt, if nothing else.


	2. Day 1, Part 1: But she's not the one out in the emptiness Where everything's pale

Carol wakes up feeling wistful. Her dream has been incredibly convincing, and the urgency she felt is still with her.   
   
Does she believe it happened? Her body does, certainly. But her body is not exactly the most impartial judge of such things. She is a little hesitant when she looks down on the floor in front of her bed, and feels absurd relief when there are no cheeseburger remains on the carpet.   
  
"No more junk-food before bed", she growls before getting up.   
  
She slouches towards the shower and only after a moment becomes aware of two pairs of inquisitive eyes looking at her.   
  
"Kit?" The little girl tries to hide behind Chewie, which doesn’t exactly work out. She is also trying very hard to look past Carol into her room.  
  
"Is there a problem?"   
  
Katherine blushes crimson, while the cat uses the opportunity to streak past the humans into Carol's abandoned bedroom - only to give a screeching hiss and retreat even faster.   
  
"What the..." She throws the door open wide, but there is nothing special inside, other than her very slept-in bed.  
  
"Where is your friend?" asks Kit, squeezing in beneath Carol's elbow. "Did he fly away?"   
  
"Who?" Carol looks down, and feels like there is something happening that nobody has informed her of. "There's nobody here and there wasn't anybody here before, either."  
  
"He can't have left through the door. Both Chewie and I were watching."  
  
"There was nobody here, Kit. I was alone."   
  
And your mother would have words with me if I was that obvious with my sex life around you, she adds in her head.  
  
"But we heard a man speak in your room."   
  
Carol's legs become wobbly all of a sudden. Could it... And then she sees what Kit fortunately had not noticed, but might have spooked Chewie. There is the indention of a second head on the spare pillow...  
  
"Hell..."

  

* * *

 

  

Melissa takes the last sip of her coffee, as she stares at the newest report about the new Thunderbolts and the Winter Soldier. She can’t help but worry about them. So far, all the various incarnations have attracted trouble and misfortune like honey attracts bears. That this matter brings up her share of unpleasant memories, too, doesn’t help.

She registers brisk steps outside of the office and then the hiss of the door opening. Carefully, she schools her face to be bland. And then, just like that, she's face to face with Carol Danvers.

It's one of the rare moments when Melissa is grateful for having once being a Grappler, because it was an opportunity to learn how to weather being stared down by a super-powered brick wall of a woman.

“Where is Genis-Vell?” Carol asks, jabbing her finger at Melissa's chest. 

And that was about the last question she expected. Melissa sits still for a moment, wondering about coincidences and- wait, is this Captain Marvel cosmically aware too? She vaguely recalls someone complaining about Ms. Marvel being hard to ambush.

She sits absolutely still, as her mind races.

Captain Marvel crosses her arms over her chest. “He was with the Thunderbolts, and then he disappeared. It's pretty likely you're the last people to have seen him.”

“We were,” she says quietly and starts blinking furiously. This isn't the time to get all weepy. She doesn't get weepy. “Sorry. Give me a moment, please.”

Captain Marvel pulls up a chair and sits down, while Melissa tries to calm down and not to contemplate how to escape.

“Atlas nearly killed him,” she says finally. The truth had to come out eventually. “But... Baron Zemo tried to use the moonstones to help him remake himself—except he got it wrong, and infused him with energy from the Bing Bang, and Genis was at every point in time, and would eventually destroy the universe.”

Captain Marvel gives her a look. “Why do I get the feeling this only gets worse?”

Probably because she has enough experience to recognize where the story is heading, Melissa thinks wryly.

“Genis was trying to find a possible future where this could be averted, but he couldn't,” she continues. “Baron Zemo had a solution, and we didn't know how much more time we had left. So... I'm not sure if I understand that right—but first he trapped Genis in one moment in time, took him apart and sent him—the remains, I mean, to the Darkforce Dimension.”

She lets out a breath and closes her eyes. “He's dead. There was no other way.”

What comes next is not what she expected at all. “You're wrong there, kid. I've got it on a really good authority he's alive.”

And suddenly, the world is falling apart all around her, swirling like a kaleidoscope.

  

* * *

 

 

She comes to lying on her side on the floor. Captain Marvel is squatting in front of her. "There you are again." It doesn’t sound overly worried, and for a moment Melissa suspects that she might assume she faked it. She tries sitting up and when everything starts turning again it and she almost throws up, it’s apparently convincing enough that the other woman reaches out to steady her.

"Did you eat anything today?" 

Melissa makes a negatory embarrassed sound.

"Okay, we’ll take care of that once you feel a bit better," Captain Marvel says, and squeezes her shoulder reassuringly. "Try to relax. I’m not here to accuse you of anything. I just need to know what happened, so that I can start figuring out how to fix it."

"Fix it?" Melissa’s voice is a toneless squeak.

"Fix it." There is no doubt in the other woman’s expression.

“No one-” she starts and falls silent before she can even finish the thought. Because... she might not have grasped what Chen Lu or Zemo had been throwing around when it came to science babble, but she understood the gist—Genis was ridiculously powerful and there was no way to prevent space time from collapsing. „They couldn’t figure it out.“

“Is there anyone who could give a more in-depth summary about the problem and why it couldn’t be solved differently?” Captain Marvel asks in a business-like tone.

“I could... write an e-mail to Chen Lu, the Radioactive Man. He was there, too, and he’s a scientist,” Melissa says, somehow finding her voice. Then, almost pleadingly, she adds, “But he said Genis couldn't survive this.”

“Who? Radioactive Man?” Captain Marvel asks.

“No, Baron Zemo,” she answers, and as soon as she does, she knows what Carol Danvers will say.

“Then he lied.”

That, Melissa thinks, feeling oddly detached, can sum up most of her interactions with Helmut Zemo. Of course, he did. If it meant getting what he wants, if it meant winning...

He probably convinced himself it was the right thing to do, too.

And then Carol Danvers drops another bomb: "Just how do you 'accidentally' screw up like that?"

It is a good thing Melissa is already sitting on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have notices, we have take some liberties with canon - Melissa works for SHIELD at the moment and is not spying on Sunspot's Avengers, while the Thunderbolts exist and are pretty close to the current roster. Both will be relevant later in the story, so stay tuned.


	3. Day 1, part 2: The high and mighty show up

“So, what do you think?” Carol points to the twenty-five sheets of techno-babble in Reed Richard’s hand that Songbird forwarded her from the Radioactive Man. Clearly, this was a job for the resident super-genius and Tony aside, it doesn’t get more genius than Mr. Fantastic.

Mr. Fantastic looks thoughtful. Carol has a somewhat uncharitable suspicion that he practices making the expression in front of a mirror to get it just right. Her uncharitable thoughts are interrupted for a moment, when Valeria slides off her chair and wanders out of the room.

Reed follows her with his gaze until the door slides closed and turns his attention back to Carol and Melissa Gold. The young woman still looks rather under the weather, though not nearly as bad as she did after their first conversation. Well, finding out that you let someone be sent to a fate worse than death generally has this effect. Although having breakfast might have helped matters, too.

Still, Songbird expressed that she wanted to help, once she stopped looking like she might throw up. She did know Genis-Vell, after all, unlike Carol and once the poor kid was out of the Darkforce Dimension that probably would be helpful.

“That sounds like a challenging dilemma,” Reed says, and Carol turns back to him. “I won't bore you with details, but we as you know we are facing actually several problems that need to be solved in rapid succession-”

Which means that he will spend the next fifteen minutes boring them with those details, Carol translates in her head. She has dealt with Bruce Banner, Hank Pym and several others long enough to recognize the specific turn of phrase which means that it's time to tune out most of the techno babble.

She glances at Songbird again—the young woman's looks resigned to listen to something going passed her head.

“-believe I heard Thor mention a similar case, although on a lesser scale and without several complications present in this scenario. Suffice to say, siphoning off the excess energy safely is what we must strive for. The keyword, as you surely can guess, is 'safely'-”

At this point, the monologue becomes a string of incomprehensible physics mixed with words dug out from forbidden pages of a thesaurus. Carol nods politely, and wonders how she can inconspicuously get Kit to tell her what she heard.

“-in fact, from what you say, it is likely that the very act used to trap him, is also keeping him alive. Therefore, we have to strive to maintain the time-bubble while simultaneously-”

Maybe Kit hadn't heard anything really... well, anything a kid shouldn't hear. She just said she heard a man speaking.

“-which presents a further challenge, as we are dealing with energies that permeate the very universe, the stuff of reality, as it were, which means-”

A man speaking doesn't really sound too bad, does it? Not like weird noises, or anything like that—that would be really embarrassing, and Marina would probably skin Carol alive if it had been something like that.

“Daddy, I think Uncle Doom can help,” Valeria announces as she enters the room again, holding the armoured hand of Victor Van Doom.

Reed freezes in mid-sentence and Carol nearly jumps, having been jolted out of her thoughts in such an unexpected manner. Melissa sits very still, her expression frozen into something between horror and amusement.

Doom looms. He somehow manages that despite holding a little girl's hand. That takes some talent. Even if the effect is a bit spoiled.

“Your inferior intellect may be stumped at the problem of the photonic decay, but Doom's superior mind has already overcome it,” Doom says. “In fact, it is very simple-”

Carol doesn't hear most of what Doom says, nor what Reed answers. What she can see is the change in Mr Fantastic's posture—the sudden shift to 'You're in my territory', and the fact that Doom responds by looming even more.

This will end in an explosion of some sort, she thinks and wonders if she should maybe knock them both out and call all the Avengers she can reach. It takes her a moment to squash the surge of panic, and once she does, she decides that neither she nor Songbird are needed at the moment.

“Let's go get some coffee,” she says, putting her hand on Songbird's shoulder. “And let those two talk science.”

  

* * *

 

 

“What kind of person was he?” Captain Marvel asks Melissa, as she hands her a paper cup with coffee and a cinnamon bun.

“Genis?” she replies, and pauses to think. “Well... Um... He managed to eat old sushi for four days in a row. And that wasn't because he was distracted, because of the whole end of the universe thing, but because he was actually one of those people who will eat anything that's in the fridge.” Which is pretty much the stupidest thing she could say. But saying other things would require her to allow any of those other memories to come bubbling to the surface and that is something she can only allow when she is alone and can bite her pillow.

Captain Marvel arches her eyebrows. She seems to notice she’s being evasive.

Melissa shrugs helplessly. “It's a stupid thing to remember about someone, isn't it? But some things just stick. And then you realise they should have told you so much and didn’t.” She pauses again. Time to change the topic. “What was his father like?”

This time it’s Captain Marvel who falls silent, clearly sorting her own memories. It lasts longer than Melissa finds comfortable.

“He fought for us—humans--despite only ever knowing us through short glimpses, because he believed in us,” she says softly. “I don't think there are many humans who have so much faith in ourselves. I know I don't.”

“But if you meet someone like that, you can't help but to try and follow,” she adds. “I don't mean that he was a hero—he was more than that. He was... well, he was probably the most inspiring person I have ever met. More so than Captain America or Charles Xavier.”

For a moment, they walk in silence, and Melissa starts to see a person beyond the Captain Marvel persona beside her.

“I... guess it must have been hard to try and live up to that,” Melissa says after a moment.

“I know I'm not like him,” Carol replies and takes a sip of her coffee. “But I had time to find out who I am.”

“Genis really didn't know who he was,” Melissa says, distantly noting how choked her voice has become. “I don't think he ever realized that just because he was lost and broken, it didn't mean that his efforts meant less.”

Carol gives her an evaluating look. “Did you love him?”

“Yes,” Melissa says. There is nothing else she can say. Not that it made anything better. In retrospect, there were so many things she could have done differently.

“Did he know?” Carol asks. She hesitates and adds, “Sorry, none of my business.”

“It's all right,” Melissa says, thinking that it's actually nice to be able to talk with someone about Genis for a change. Everyone else seems to have zeroed in on Helmut Zemo, and why would she sleep with _him_. They'd usually have answer about that too—like a bitch in heat she will always follow the top dog. “If you're asking if I told him—yes. But I'm not sure if he believed me.”

Carol reaches out and squeezes her shoulder. They fall silent again, each sipping their coffee. Melissa thinks about what she heard, and if it would have changed anything if she had known any of it before. She wants to believe so, but the past is the past. She tried to leave it behind and somehow, that never works.

A thought occurs to her. “Why did you decide to ask about Genis?”

Carol gives her an unreadable look, then looks at her coffee cup. She seems to find the answer to whatever she is thinking in it. “I had a dream. About Mar-Vell—he asked me to find his son.” She looks at Melissa and grins, as if visits from beyond were as much of a daily occurrence as alien invasions. “I'm not a bad medium, am I?”


	4. Day 1, Part 3: Will you still cry for me Come and take my hand

When they come back, the Baxter Building is still standing, and both Reed Richards and Doctor Doom are engrossed in a tense, but violence-free, discussion. They turn towards them the moment they enter, and start addressing them simultaneously.

That leads to another tense moment, as they sort out who should deliver the news. Eventually, Reed Richards prevails.

“We are presented with several different problems, which need to be solved in rapid succession.” He raises a finger, transforming it into a big “1”. “We need to access the Darkforce Dimension.”

“Two”, Doom’s voice rings out, “in a potentially infinite, featureless landscape, we need to find the parts of Genis-Vell.”

“Three”, Reed raises a third finger, “the stasis needs to be lifted and his body reassembled, quickly enough so he cannot succumb to his mortal injuries.” The ruler of Latveria manages to glare, which is impressive given that his mask has no facial expressions. “Yes, this is conjecture, because apparently the subject ceased to be mortal before this. Still, at these high stakes, it pays to take eventualities into account.”

Melissa feels her heart sink. Yes, Zemo lied. Except, it seems like his lie was close enough to the truth that the difference might be academic. Carol puts a hand on her shoulder squeezes slightly. ‘We’ll make it work’, she mouths, while Doom mercilessly continues to tick further boxes.

“Four. Transport the subject back to reality, while keeping the portal open, so the excess energy can be siphoned off.”

“Five,” Mr Fantastic says. “We need to siphon off the excess energy and transfer it where it will do no harm.”

Dr Doom all but snaps, “Six – we need to prevent it from building up again and – to put it in simple terms – convince the subject’s powers to stop affecting photons in a way that is making the rules of physics unstable.” He spits the explanation out, as if the mere idea of actually saying it in an understandable way is offensive to him. “All of this might seem impossible, but rest assured that Doom is not as easily thwarted as a Nazi ersatz-scientist with delusions of grandeur.”

Was there a way to make Doom call Baron Zemo that to his face? Melissa would actually pay money to see that happen.

The two superlative intellects exchanged a look, then Reed Richards shrugs. “That’s the part of the list we are in agreement on. Some problems, like reintegrating an organic structure while influencing the molecular adhesion, we already worked on some time ago so this part we are feeling confident about.”

Doom takes over, since apparently, they once trained as a comedy duo without a sense of humour. “The first two parts are the difficult ones, though. There are not many teleporters capable of reaching the dark force dimension and if we had to build a portal, it would take more time than I am willing to spend on this endeavour.”

Reed Richards nods. “Of course, with an experience as long as ours, we can list several possible candidates we could contact. We have considered the possibilities, and given that there is some precedent, we have decided that the best course of action will be to enlist the help of Thor,” Mr Fantastic explains. Melissa stares, hoping that maybe there was an explanation forthcoming as to why exactly _Thor_. Who as far as she knows, shoots lightning out of her hammer or hits things with it.

“What precedent?” Captain Marvel asks, sounding as confused as Melissa was feeling.

“My knowledge is only second-hand, so I do not know the exact details, but I've been informed that at one point the previous Thor had helped someone with a very similar power-set to Photon siphon off excess energy,” Reed Richards explains. “We will need to iron out some details, but she should be able to create a reasonably stable portal to the Darkforce Dimension.”

“Thus, we have a solution to two problems, which leaves us free to occupy ourselves with solving the others,” Dr Doom says.

That’s when Melissa realises this can take a few days. Which is a mixed-blessing. It means she won't have to face the consequences of what Zemo did to Genis yet, but, on the other hand, she will have ample time to fret, and imagine the worst case scenarios.

Something of her anxiety must be showing because Reed Richards addresses her directly. „Why don’t you go home and rest? You look quite worn. We will call on you if we need you further, but there is no need for you to stay here and listen to us.”

Captain Marvel nods. “Well, unless you know Thor personally” – which Melissa doesn’t– “there is really no reason to drag you along.”

Although Melissa feels like she is running away, she is actually glad they are giving her an excuse. She very much wants to go home and fall apart without people watching her.

  

* * *

 

 

Melissa considers going to the gym, but the thought of dealing with empty small-talk and dudebros who can’t take no for an answer makes her reconsider. Instead, she simply goes running and doesn’t stop until her muscles are burning from the strain. Only then does she feel like facing her empty apartment and whatever demons that may lurk in the silence.

She gets a king-sized hamburger on her way back, and a box of ice cream, just in case, and then finally is alone with her thoughts. At times like this, she starts to wonder if maybe getting a roommate wouldn’t be a bad idea, but only until she imagines explaining the things that happen to her to, say, Jenny the para-legal.

The hamburger is gone by the time she is home, and she hides the ice cream in the freezer. She looks around, and realizes that this is one of the days on which she’d receive e-mails from Abe. They kept up their old schedule through hell and high water, and once she looks into her mailbox, she finds a new message. It makes her feel slightly better to know that there is at least someone out there who will not despise her. That’s unfounded self-pity, but whatever.

Immediately she notices something has changed – the email account Abe is writing from now has a user picture, a cartoon ladybug. She almost facepalms. There’s also a photo attached to the mail, which shows Hallie and Abe, doing victory signs. It makes her smile. So apparently Hallie is starting to discover the joys of this reality, namely smartphones and selfies.

Abe’s message is a blast from the past, addressing what she wrote last time, asking if she got concert tickets,  if the tricks he told her to wrestle her stubborn work computer into submission worked, everyday things. It feels like the entire world has upended itself between Friday and today.

Finally the dam breaks and she curls up on the couch, biting a cushion. Her mouth full of synthetic fibres, there’s no danger of her accidentally bringing the house down. She’s never been religious, but today she would pray if she knew how. She doesn’t, so instead, she writes back to Abe, trying not to reveal anything about her mental state and failing. Hopefully, he’ll not hold that against her and won’t mind that she wrote back too early.

Still, even if he is not there and cannot hold her, the mere act of writing to Abe helps her. She’s far from having regained her equilibrium, but she is feeling better. She may be alone in her apartment, but she is not alone in the world.


	5. Day 2, Part 1: When the priests of pride say there is no other way

Finding Thor is not all that hard fortunately. It doesn’t even involve falling from orbit. Since the new bearer of Mjolnir is a member of the Avengers, all Carol has to do is lodge a call with Jarvis after listening to him whine about the new headquarters and a few hours later she receives a text: “Liberty Island, 3AM”.

Since you had to live under a rock to not know that the City gave the apartment in the Statue’s head to her, Carol doesn’t bother getting down. Instead, she waits on her balcony, and looks out on the dark and silent bay, until the flashing clouds warn her of the Goddess of Thunder’s approach. She lands in a gust of wind, the air carrying a smell of ozone and metal. Up close, Carol can see the muscles ripple under her skin as she moves.

Jess had once said Thor was hot, but Carol thinks it's making light of what she really is.

Whoever this woman is, she had made the thunder hers. Hidden by the helmet and with featureless, all black eyes, her expression is difficult to read. 

_“Captain Marvel.”_

“Thor.”

The greeting is somewhat formal and Carol wonders if the woman before her should be familiar. She did meet Asgardians before but Thor reminds her of none of them.

_“Thou wanted to meet me.”_

“Yes.” She had been thinking of how to explain the whole problem without getting tangled in Reed’s technobabble or her own ghost story, so the words aren’t hard to find. It’s harder to guess what Thor is thinking. “Are you familiar with Genis-Vell?”

The woman might not have been active as a super-hero back then—or she could have been one of those who were reported as missing, dead or retired, but even if she had been just a civilian three years ago, she would have watched the news. And the Thunderbolts had made it there.

Thor looks into the distance. _“Was he a relative of the first Captain Marvel?”_

“Yes, his son,” Carol replies. “You might have heard of him as Photon?”

The other woman nods slowly. _“The Thunderbolt.”_

“I recently found out he's trapped in the Darkforce Dimension,” she says. “I've talked with Reed Richards and he believes you should be able to help with getting him out.”

Thor examines Mjolnir. _“It doesn't work the same for me as it did for Odinson. Our skills and powers overlap, but not completely.”_ She falls silent for a moment. _“I will try to help.”_

Carol breaths out in relief.

“And how did thou find out such a thing? It is not something that one simply reads about in the newspapers,” Thor asks.

Carol's relief dies. It's not that she is afraid to explain the truth, but it's... private, she supposes. Or had been until now. There's no way of avoiding mentioning Mar-Vell, if she wants to provide an explanation.

“Do you want to come in?” she asks. “I can fix you some coffee. It's going to take some explaining.”

 

* * *

  

In the Baxter Building, Thor appears as impassive as she had been when Carol talked to her alone. She listens to Reed Richards and Dr Doom, her cool demeanour only breaking to give the latter several frigid looks. She makes no comments as they explain, only occasionally changing the hand with which she is holding her hammer. It never does seem to leave her hands, though.

“Given the known upper levels of the subject's power output, it would be advisable if he were sedated for the procedure,” Dr Doom says.

“That will not be possible,” Reed Richards replies, his mouth drawing into a thin line. “Given that Genis-Vell is an energy being, and has no biological components any longer, there will simply be nothing to sedate, until we impose an organic structure.”

“Which is exactly when he should be sedated, as this will be the most painful part of the procedure,” Dr Doom counters. “A focussed photon blast from Captain Marvel, or an electrical discharge from Thor should accomplish the task suitably.”

“No,” Carol and Thor say almost at the same moment.

Doom lets out a half-sigh, half-growl in exasperation. “Your moral compunctions may cost us a price none of us are willing to pay.”

“We could explain our intentions,” Reed says reasonably.

“He might not be in a state to listen,” Doom replies darkly. “He will be in pain and he will be confused. It is natural that he may lash out.”

_“Mayhap there be someone who can calm Genis-Vell during the procedure?”_ Thor asks. _“If there is no other choice, then I will do it, but he should be given a chance first.”_

Carol nods slowly, thinking about the options they have—Mar-Vell would have been very useful now, but for all she knows his appearance was a one-time thing. Contacting Titan is out, and she is pretty sure that it wouldn’t help at all.

_“Doth he not have family other than his father?”_ Thor asks, clearly following the same track of thoughts as Carol.

“His mother should be on Titan,” Reed says. He frowns, likely trying to come up with a way to contact them, and Carol’s mind races to find something that will take that idea off the table without her having to admit to seeing Mar-Vell’s ghost.

And then Thor goes pale. _“Titan? Oh no.”_

Carol feels confused, while Reed connects the dots much quicker. “Ultron. You think she might have been a casualty?”

_“I do not know. Most of Titan was restored after the Vision and Eros defeated him, but I assume there might have been damage that could not be undone.”_

“What about Eros? He was Mar-Vell’s friend and he might still be on Earth. And he is quite a smart person and knows a lot about Titanian science, which would be helpful,” asks Reed, looking at Carol, who is at a loss for words. Mar-Vell didn’t want her to contact Titan, but she doesn’t know if that meant only Elysius or the others, too. Fortunately, she doesn’t have to make that decision, because Thor answers:

_“He is no longer on Earth. After Hank Pym’s memorial service he left for parts unknown. And no, he didn’t return to Titan.”_ Thor’s face is mostly hidden and even the visible parts never seem very expressive, but Carol thinks she sees something like apprehension there.

“A pity.” Reed shrugs elastically. “I guess we could try to contact Titan and hope Elysius is still alright, but after the damage done by Ultron, it might take a while to get her here.”

“No,” Carol says firmly. Elysius is a bad idea, obviously. Explaining that might be harder, unless… The part about Mar-Vell would have to come out sooner or later, and she'd already told Songbird- And then she realizes who the answer is, “We should ask Melissa Gold. She is already involved and lives here in the city.”

Thor nods. _“Making a mother see her son suffer like that seems pointlessly cruel."_

Doom sighs again, all world-weariness at the predictability of humans and humanoid aliens.


	6. Day 2, Part 2: When the dark night seems endless  Please remember me

Melissa has managed to somewhat restore her equilibrium, when the call comes. Running until you drop does that. If life had taught her anything, it's that one’s choices always come with a price. And so far, she never refused to pay. She leaves right away.

Immediately upon following Reed Richards into the laboratory she feels like she stepped into a courtroom. There is Captain Marvel, Doctor Doom, Susan Richards and Thor, all of them in the dictionary under the definition of “intimidating”. Mr. Fantastic joins them and she swallows.

“Hi.”

“The technical problems have been solved, mostly, but there’s still one thing where we'll need your help with,” Captain Marvel says, studying Melissa. “Someone needs to explain to Genis-Vell what is going to happen, and that he needs to stay calm. He might not listen to any of us, but he knows you.”

Melissa feels her heart in her throat. “Me?” Her voice, despite all the artificial stuff crammed into her, is a high-pitched squeak.

"While I would want to spare you this ordeal", Reed Richards says, looking at her with a compassion she feels is entirely undeserved, "your presence will be necessary. The process we developed will be lengthy and involved and once we free Photon from the temporal stasis, it will be disorienting and painful. That cannot be avoided, so I hope the presence of a friendly face will minimise trauma and make repercussions unlikely."

“I’m the last person you want.” She balls her hands into fists. “I betrayed him. I helped Zemo put him in this situation and he certainly won’t feel in any way charitable about seeing me.”

“You told me you loved him.” There is no judgement in Captain Marvel’s voice, and no surprise.  While Thor and Doom are inscrutable, her expression is almost kind.

“I did. I do.” Melissa forces the words out. “I didn’t know what else to do. Nobody knew any other way, not even Genis himself. We just couldn’t let him destroy the universe. So, we… let Zemo do his thing.” She’s faintly aware she is crying. “There was nothing I could do. Or maybe there was, but I couldn’t think of it.”

Captain Marvel puts a hand on her shoulder, and squeezes gently. “Sometimes, there are only bad choices and worse ones. You have a chance to make up for one of yours now.”

“Given that he existed in every point in time, it's likely Genis-Vell won't remember what happened—Kree minds, just like human ones, are not equipped to process that kind of input,” Reed Richards adds. “Not immediately. And while I would advise that you come clean, this can wait until it's all over.”

Thor nods in apparent agreement. “If it does not work, Captain Marvel and I will incapacitate him. But thou shouldst make an attempt.”

Melissa wipes her eyes with her hand, and nods.

“I'll- I'll try.”

She can't say no. Not because Genis may not remember, but because Captain Marvel is right. She can fix one of her mistakes. And it doesn’t matter what it will cost her.   
  
 

* * *

 

 

  
Carol wonders at which point of her life seeing Reed Richards and Dr Doom working on the same project has become something that is merely a surprise and not a shock. They stand head to head in the field near a small manor just outside of New York. Nothing indicates that the peaceful place had seen a fierce battle three years ago.

“Please open a portal here, leading to those coordinates,” Reed says to Thor, while showing her something on a tablet. “Our readings indicate this is the first location to which Genis-Vell was transported.”

Sue Richards stands between them, already forming a protective bubble around them, while Thor prepares to open a portal to the Darkforce dimension.

Carol’s thoughts are interrupted, when she feels something warm brush against her fingers. She looks around, but there is nothing there—but there should be. She feels absurdly certain of it—it makes sense he'd be here.

And she can't even hold his hand.

Then, darkness engulfs her, Susan, Reed and Doom, and the warmth around her hand fades. Though the force field keeps the worst of the effects away, Carol still feels like she's suddenly a copy of herself made from inferior materials. She doesn't even want to imagine what it would feel like to be trapped here for years.

Reed studies something on his tablet, and keys a few commands on it.

“I need to take a few readings,” he says and, suddenly, gasps. “What is this?”

Doom snaps something in Latverian, practically spitting the words out.

“Narcissistic imbecile,” he finishes having apparently run out of insults in his native tongue.

“What's wrong?” Susan asks, looking at her husband with a worried frown.

Reed keys a few more commands on his tablet, before answering. “The readings indicate that most of this area is already saturated with energy that corresponds to the one Genis-Vell would most commonly emit. It appears that the temporal stasis failed eventually, so the Darkforce started absorbing energy from him, but given that the part of the issue was that he existed in every point in time-”

“Dilettante with the imagination of a lobotomised sloth,” Doom rumbles.

“Genis-Vell keeps absorbing energy, as a part of him exists in a time where he was not in the Darkforce dimension. This energy is then drawn from him—energy that should not exist here, which is already a paradox. He will continue doing so, until the Darkforce reaches a saturation point, and that would in turn trigger a catastrophic reaction with consequences I cannot predict. Yet.”

At which point, Carol remembers the one piece of Kree swearing she had learned from Mar-Vell. It's one of those things that tell you a lot about the culture it comes from and describes Zemo nearly perfectly. It means – in loose translation - “idiot noble born officer know-it-all” and carries a strong indication one of the parents had a gene responsible for having shit for brains.

“Precisely,” Doom says. 

“That is not all,” Reed continues. “As Zemo had predicted, Genis-Vell did not die when the temporal stasis wore off, but instead started coalescing again. This at least will make our task easier—it eliminates the need of keeping up the stasis while reintegrating him and I will just need a few more readings to determine where he is precisely located.”

“And that is why amateurs should. Not. Dabble,” Doom growls.

And on that positive note they return. Carol simply stands in the sun for a moment, before she takes off. Thor is just behind her, while Reed, Susan and Doom prepare to travel by more mundane means—or what passes for these, when the Fantastic Four and Dr Doom are involved.

  

* * *

 

 

Melissa feels almost sick with worry, as she watches Thor. The portal beside her looks like a disc of pure darkness and it has been more than thirty minutes since the others disappeared into it. Is it going to be now, or longer? The Asgardian’s face is utterly devoid of expression or strain and her eyes are as black and featureless as a shark’s.

She shivers, and looks at Doom who is still busily working at the arcane machinery he and Mr. Fantastic set up to finally solve the problem of Genis’s unstable powers. To her, it looks like a torture device, and nothing she has heard so far makes her question this judgement. Still, it’s the only hope.

As if she never heard that before…

And then her thoughts are moot because the portal before her ripples once, a glowing sphere of energy tumbles out, dissolving and revealing the shapes of Captain Marvel, Mr. Fantastic and the Invisible Woman. 

Captain Marvel is carrying Genis—a silhouette made of darkness dotted with small pinpricks of light. They dart and swirl around his body, some winking out while others appear. She had forgotten how unearthly he used to look—like someone tried to take the essence of the universe and compress it into human shape. 

Melissa starts to run forward and stops herself.

Genis is moving feebly, fingers twitching, his head turning from left to right like a blind man’s. His eyes are closed. Captain Marvel quickly carries him over to the device and lays him down. Her hands, when she pulls them away, are rimed with frost.

Doom gestures for Melissa to move, impatient and stern.

She takes a step forward, just as Genis's eyes flicker open. A moan escapes his lips and he curls up, hands griping his shoulders. She sees his fingers disappear inside his shape and the tension in the curve of his back.

There is no more room for doubt or recriminations—Melissa rushes over to him, and takes his face in her hands. It feels like touching ice, but his eyes gain focus and seek hers. For a moment, she wonders if he will even recognise her, then he grips her wrists and mouths something that she thinks is her name. His grip is so tight it’s painful, but she senses no hostility from him, just a desperate need to hold onto something.

She goes down on her knees so their eyes are level.  “Genis. Can you hear me?”

He seems to nod, and his death grip loosens enough so she can take his hands in hers. “It’s alright.” He tries to pull her closer, so she rests her forehead against his. It feels like cradling a thunderstorm, cold and electric. Melissa, he says again, without sound. “I’m here.” And then, because Doom has started to loom threateningly, and because they have no time to lose, she adds: “We're trying to help you, but it will hurt. I'm—I'm sorry.”

_I know._ He nods, still holding her hands, but now his grip is careful and gentle.

“I'm here,” she assures him. “I'll be right here all the time.” His lips move, but there’s still no sound.

Melissa almost starts to fear he has forgotten how to speak, until Doom and Richards are finished with their preparations and start their machine.

Genis screams.


	7. Day 2, Part 3: Breathe life into this feeble heart Lift this mortal veil of fear

There are some things Carol isn’t very keen on watching. Painful procedures that can be called “medical” only by the loosest terms ever are among them. She is quite impressed with Songbird – or else the young woman is feeling even guiltier than she thought – because Melissa stays at Genis’s side through the whole ordeal.

And even afterwards, once their patient is settled in a bed and has fallen into an exhausted sleep, she refuses to leave him.

Susan Richards merely shakes her head and applies a salve to the young woman’s bruises. Superpowers can be hazardous beyond the obvious applications, it seems. “You should rest.”

“I’m just sitting here. That’s resting?”

With a sigh, the Invisible Woman ushers everyone out.

“This went well, all in all,” Reed says, once the door is closed.

Doom snorts. “It could have been catastrophic.”

He doesn't look up as he speaks, rapidly typing something on a green tablet. It has his masked face on it.

“It was not,” Thor says. “Will you need my help further?”

“I think we can handle things now,” Reed says. “If you wish to stay, we will be happy to accommodate you, but if there are other matters that you need to attend to, we are perfectly equipped to oversee Genis-Vell's recovery.”

“Should you need me again, you know how to contact me”, the tall woman says. “And even if everything is fine, I would appreciate to be informed of the outcome.”

“Of course,” Reed replies.

“I would also appreciate updates,” Doom adds. “There are matters that require my attention.”

Reed and Susan look a bit less enthusiastic about agreeing to his request.

“And I think I will go back home and come back tomorrow,” Carol says. “I should at least feed my cat.” Because otherwise Chewie will feed herself and that might qualify as a minor national emergency.

Reed nods. "I will contact Titan to inform them about what happened and inquire about Elysius."

Carol should have guessed this would come up. Maybe, now that Genis is safe, she should let him make the choice, but... Mar-Vell asked her not to involve Titan. 

“Can I talk with you and Sue in private?” she asks.

 

* * *

 

 

Carol takes a deep breath. “We shouldn’t call Titan, at least not unless Genis asks for it.”

That gets her two very sceptical looks. The problem with Reed and Sue Richards is that they are intelligent people with a lot experience, and currently are taking care of a horde of children. They were bound to notice that so far any mentions of Genis’s family members were absent, and they were bound to ask, and Carol knows she is being unfair in blaming them for the fact that she didn't think of how to explain things without sounding like a complete and utter nutjob.

“His mother did not do a good job at raising him.” She recalls what Melissa told her about Genis. “He was troubled, beyond his malfunctioning superpowers and I don’t think he should face her just yet.”

“How do you know this?” comes the obvious question by Reed Richards. “I didn’t know you were familiar with the people on Titan.”

Which she isn't. She has met Starfox maybe two or three times, and that only in passing during one of those huge gatherings of all Avengers ever.

“Okay—you can ask Songbird about the second part,” she says. “She said she noticed things that pointed to bigger issues, but didn't add them up until later. As for the first-” she hesitates. “I'm... ah... having a slight case of being haunted by Mar-Vell's ghost and apparently being dead didn't make him not cosmically aware.”

Reed rubs his chin, while Sue puts her hands on her hips. 

“Certainly, if Ms Gold noticed something was wrong, so should his relatives,” Reed says. “We have no evidence they did, given that whatever was troubling Genis continued until Baron Zemo saw fit to... make an attempt at fixing his own mistakes.”

“Or further his own agenda, whatever it was, more likely,” Carol agrees. 

Susan rubs her arms. “We will not contact Titan unless Genis asks us to. And we will refrain from offering it until we have a better idea of his state of mind”, she suggests.

“That is entirely reasonable,” Reed agrees. “He is an adult and should make any such decisions himself.”

Carol nods.

“And about Mar-Vell,” he adds. “Do you want me to take some readings?”

“I think I’m fine,” Carol says. “But you can check if you think it’s a good idea.”

 

* * *

  

 

Genis isn't really asleep. He's just too tired to move, or even keep his eyes open. The pain isn't completely gone either—whenever he moves, sharp lightning bolts shoot through his limbs, and if he lies still it feels like tiny needles underneath his skin.

But he can focus on one thing, even if it's pain. His mind no longer feels like broken glass scattered in a sea, always reflecting myriads of things drifting in the current. Now it just feels like shards of glass. That probably counts as an improvement.

He feels Melissa's hand brush through his hair. 

But something is different—the hand is larger. With effort, he opens his eyes and finds his dead father standing over him. He looks like he did in the parallel dimension—except his expression is concerned. Genis stares, but he is too startled to cry out.

Still, Melissa, who is even now right beside him, holding his hand, notices his reaction. She smiles reassuringly at him and squeezes his hand. “It’s all right. It’s over. You can rest now.” She doesn’t seem to notice Mar-Vell who is standing on the other side of the bed, gently stroking his hair.

Genis wonders if he's seeing the past again. It happened several times before, and it always seemed real. Or maybe it's something else entirely. Maybe he's just imagining his father to make himself feel better.

Even this minor exertion makes him feel dizzy. He can’t really focus on his father anymore, can’t tell him not to go.

“I'm sorry,” Mar-Vell says. He leans forward and kisses Genis's forehead. His lips feel as warm and real as a living person’s.

Maybe he is not dreaming or seeing things? He doesn't know what happened while he was gone. Perhaps his father is alive again, and isn't abysmally embarrassed to be related to someone like Genis.

“Rest now, Genis,” Mar-Vell says. “I'm here with you. I’m not going away.”

Like a little child Genis does as he is told and closes his eyes. His father keeps stroking his hair, while Melissa holds his hand and hums a soft tune, until Genis is finally lulled to sleep.


	8. Day 3, Part 1: In all mein Schwarz, dein grellstes Blinken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is taken from the song "Dein Hurra" by Bosse. It means "In all my darkness, your brightest sparkle".

Carol dreams of flying. She has always dreamed of it, though the content has changed over the years. First, it had been birds; then, the cockpit of a plane. Now, it’s herself and the heat of her own powers.

The sky had never changed—it's blue and empty. Until now.

She stops and hovers in mid-air, and so does he. For a moment they simply look at each other. This being a strangely lucid dream like the last one, she is sort of glad that Reed Richards confirmed her brain was still functioning normally. Or else, she might have started to wonder. Of course, he had also found strange traces of rather exotic energies lingering around her right hand. The hand she had thought Mar-Vell had touched.

“You were there, weren't you?” she asks finally thinking back to the warm touch she felt over her hand.

He nods. 

Carol reaches out. Her fingers brush against his cheek—at first only barely and then she cups it in her palm. She couldn’t hold him then, but she can do so now. It’s not what she wants, but it will have to do.

He puts his hand over hers and caresses it.

“We should talk,” Carol says eventually.

“Yes,” Mar-Vell replies and gives her an embarrassed smile. “Do you know where to start?”

Carol’s own smile is as helpless. “No, not really. It's... been so much.” She pauses, and then asks the question that had been nagging at her from the beginning. “Why come to me?”

“You still think of me as a person,” Mar-Vell replies. “And you have a part of me.”

“Elysius doesn't?” Carol asks. There is something here, something she needs to get to the bottom of before going any further.

“I wouldn't ask Elysius to help Genis,” Mar-Vell replies. His expression turns hard.

“Why?” Carol asks. His expression tells her she's right to suspect he has refrained from asking her not merely to spare Genis's mother this awful knowledge about her child's fate. He doesn't want to—he's angry with Elysius.

“Had she wanted to help, she could do it at any point in time. She did not want to. And even if she did, I'd have... have found a way to stop her. She'd only do more harm,” Mar-Vell says. “If I'd been alive-”

Carol puts her free hand on his shoulder and pulls him closer. “You didn't choose to die. Whatever happened afterwards was not your fault.”

“It was a consequence,” Mar-Vell replies.

“That doesn’t mean you caused it. Everyone involved made their own choices,” Carol says, after a moment.

“I might have chosen  better.”

Mar-Vell seems to be determined to feel miserable.

“Shhhh,” she says and puts a finger on his lips. “We will fix it. And if I get to kick some asses in the process, that’s a bonus.“ That finally makes him smile.

Carol rests her head on his shoulder. She feels his arms encircle her and they hover like this in silence.

“So, this is goodbye then?” Carol asks after a while. “Or are you going to tell me what really happened with Elysius?“

“If I want you to fix my mess, I guess you have a right to know.“ He pauses, and looks away into the distance. It takes a moment, before he reaches whatever conclusion he needs to make, and then in a voice that is far too controlled tells Carol what kind of a mother Elysius had been.

 

* * *

 

Kit wanders out of the kitchen with a glass of water, when she hears the man again. She doesn't know the language he's speaking in, but he sounds nice. Still, it's odd that there's someone showing up in the middle of the night, so Kit decides to check on Carol.

She creeps into her room quietly and is greeted with the sight of a man in a red superhero costume next to Carol's bed and talking solemnly to Chewie. The cat is curled up on Carol's back and giving him a hostile look, but isn't trying to scratch him.

Then, they both look at Kit.

The man gets up, while Chewie settles down with the expression of a victor. The man starts walking towards the door.

“Who are you?” Kit asks.

He stops and gives her a surprised look. He stands still for a while with a puzzled expression, until he seems to reach some sort of a conclusion.

“My name is Mar-Vell,” he says.

“Marvel?” she asks and giggles. 

“Close enough,” he replies. He walks past her straight through the wall.

 

* * *

 

Melissa wakes up with a jolt, when she feels someone's arm move underneath her. She sits up, confused, her lower back cramping and her neck stiff. The room is unfamiliar, and it slowly dawns on her that she's still in the Baxter Building. She is still sitting beside Genis’s bed, only at some point she half slid down the chair and fell asleep with her face on this arm.

She looks at him, if she disturbed him, but he only shifts slightly. Although, with all the sensors attached to him, he can’t be very comfortable anyway. At least all the monitors around them still show green lights and only blink placidly.

Now, Genis looks normal again—a fair-skinned powerfully-built blond, one that wouldn't look out of place in a college football team or at a gym somewhere. Although, right now, his coach would probably send him home, since he looks paler than usual and has dark shadows under his eyes. Still, no one would be able to tell he's not human at all.

She plants a kiss on his forehead and stretches, contemplating to get up and take a few steps, just to work out the kinks in her back, and weighing the chance that he might wake up while she is gone, when he stirs. He opens his eyes and gives her a bleary look.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hmmm.” Genis raises one hand and almost dislodges a sensor from this finger. “Shhh.” Melissa gently lays her hand on his. “Careful.”

He looks up at her, confusion mounting in his eyes. “Where… What…” He uses his free hand to feel down his chest, where there are more electrodes attached.

“Hold still a bit longer, please. Mr. Fantastic will get you out in a moment, I’m sure.” She feels apprehension mount, not knowing how she will deal if he panics now.

“Where is my father?”

“He's still dead,” Melissa says, too surprised by the question to wonder why Genis would ask it.

“Oh.” It's just one syllable and yet it manages to convey both disappointment and fear. The next sentence sounds more like Genis is trying to convince himself than like an actual statement. “I-I... must have just dreamed that.”

Melissa squeezes his hand reassuringly. She doesn't like the way he sounds—like someone who can't trust what he sees or feels. “It doesn't mean it wasn't real,” she says. “Carol Danvers said she dreamed about him too—he asked her to find you."

Genis blinks and swallows, but the struggle proves futile and tears roll down his cheeks and soak into the pillow. Melissa bends down next to him and brushes her free hand through his hair.

“He cares about me?” Genis whispers, sounding heartbreakingly relieved. 

“Yes, he does,” Melissa feels her own cheeks get wet. “And so do others. You are not alone.”


	9. Day 3, Part 2: In meiner Großbaustelle legst du Dynamit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from the song "Dein Hurra" by Bosse and means "You put dynamite to my construction site".

Reed Richards is quite pleased with himself. Not only has he managed to solve a difficult problem, and save someone in the process, he has also successfully cooperated with Victor Van Doom. It was difficult, especially Doom’s affectation of thinking nobody else understood Latverian, but nevertheless Reed has risen above such petty concerns.

Still, he is a scientist and knows that theory must be tested, and results must be observed.

He enters the room, where Genis-Vell is resting and finds him awake. Melissa Gold is sitting at his side, running her hand through his hair.

Reed would like to give them a moment longer, but with such a delicate situation, he needs to make sure everything is fine. Instead, he turns around, so that he doesn't see them and busies himself with examining various measurements. They are looking encouraging. The energy readings are almost normal, and given Genis-Vell’s unusual origins, the vital signs also seem in tune with what to expect with someone his age and half-Kree, half whatever. The power dampener is also working well.

“Hm...”

He tilts his head to the side, and nods to himself, as he finishes the calculations.

Then, he turns around again, finding two pairs of red-rimmed blue eyes watching him.

“I do believe everything is fine,” he says. “I'd rather you stayed here for a few more days, just to exclude any possible uncertainties but at this point I'm quite confident that with Victor's help, I've stopped the photonic decay. There is no more danger.”

Genis-Vell and Songbird continue watching him and fiddling with the sensors hooked up to the young man’s body, until finally Genis asks, “Does it mean I can move now?”

 

* * *

 

After Reed finally relents and decides to release Genis from all the sensors and wires – with just a little monitor attached to his wrist for safety – he finds that coming back from a fate worse than death carries price tags attached.

Apparently, just because his body is whole again, doesn’t mean his muscles and nerves know that much. He can get up; he can even move… But it is disjointed, like a puppet or a Zom trooper, and every move, every step, even when he doesn’t overshoot his goal, hurts, sending his muscles into spasms, and causing his nerves to misfire.

On the way from the bed to the door he falls three times. After the first, Melissa offers her hand. He shoves her aside. “Sorry.” With gritted teeth he forces himself up. “I am not a child. I can do this. I don’t need help.” The understanding on her face hurts more than her pity. He is failing again and he cannot help it.

He makes it to the door, and outside. There is a long corridor. He starts walking, crashing into the walls and more than once finding himself on hands and knees. His face is wet, with sweat or tears, he does not know. In some far off corner of his mind he hears Melissa talk to Richards, and Mr. Fantastic explain that the pain and the problems are perfectly natural and don’t pose a danger to him.

He doesn’t give up. The corridor seems to get longer, and far from getting better, his body gets worse. He wants to curl up and never move again so the pain goes away, he wants to let Melissa hold him like she has done before, and tell him everything was going to be alright. But those are the appeals of weakness, and he cannot be weak. Not after everything. Not after he has been given another chance. He cannot…

He stumbles again, only this time he doesn’t crash into the floor. He lands on something that is as soft as a cushion, and when he tries to get his reluctant arms to prop him up, he looks into stern blue eyes.

“You are not helping your recovery. These things need time; they can’t be forced.” Susan Richards, the Invisible Woman, gently props him up enough so he is sitting, and looks into his eyes. “It’s alright. Healing is natural, not a defect. How about breakfast, before we discuss physical therapy?”

 

* * *

 

His hands are shaking and he has to grip the mug with both hands to keep it steady. The sweet tea tastes nice, aromatic, and he tries to think about that and not that he's an idiot. He's always been an idiot, rushing headlong into things, and it never got him anywhere, and now he's doing it again.

He puts down the mug and looks up to find the Invisible Woman still at the counter. She opens the fridge and looks at him.

“Would you like something to eat?” she asks.

With a start, Genis realises that he's not actually just nauseous after all the effort. He's hungry, and he'd simply forgotten how that feels.

He nods.

“Is there anything you like in particular?” the Invisible Woman continues.

“Not really,” Genis says after a moment of trying to remember anything specific. He almost says what kind of pizza Rick likes best instead, before catching himself. He doesn’t really know what he would like. It also isn’t really important, or is it?

“How about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” Susan Richards asks.

Genis nods again. He ate this once or twice, he thinks. Or was it Rick who told him about it? He tries a shrug and almost drops the mug again as his spine suddenly feels on fire. When his hands steady enough to lift the mug, he takes another sip of tea, and tries not to think about what's next. What can there be? Will he even recognise the world? So far he only knows that the Baxter Building had a makeover.

The Invisible Woman places a plate with a sandwich before him—the bread is white and the crust is missing, and when he takes a bite it's both sweet and salty. He chews for a moment, staring of into space, before telling himself to stop hiding from this mess he has landed in. This mess that is him now. He can't pretend his hands aren't still shaking, or that Sue had to levitate him to the kitchen like an invalid.

“I'm sorry to be a bother,” he says, hating how weak and shaky his voice sounds.

The Invisible Woman has her own child to worry about, she does need him being a mess and not knowing when he's hungry or too useless to do something.

Susan Richards sits down in the opposite chair and looks at him. She smiles, but there is a certain sternness to it. An authority. “I’ve seen that look before. I have a younger brother,” Susan Richards replies. “And he had his moments like that, too. It is nonsense. I can tell you a million times that you aren’t a bother, that we will be there to help you as long as you need us and that we will do it gladly and that we will not look down on you for needing help after going through hell. It’s the truth, and nothing but the truth, but I have a feeling that like Johnny you will not believe me.”

Genis feels himself blush, one reaction that his body obviously remembers all too well. His head pounds like it wants to burst. “I…”

“It’s the hardest lesson for a big sister, and for a mother. That sometimes you can’t help, because the one you want to help won’t let you. For whatever reasons. And then you watch, and it hurts, but it’s not your decision but somebody else’s.” 

She held out her hand over the table. “Think about it, Genis-Vell.”

 

* * *

 

He accepts her hand in the end. He realizes she is right and he is being silly. And he wants her to not consider him a silly little boy. He is aware his reluctance to accept help has nothing much to do with masculine pride and everything with his knowledge that he has only ever failed at everything.

It likely isn’t going to change in the future, but at least, if he lets Susan Richards help him, she will think better of him than if he does not.

And the sandwich was good. So, when she asks if he wanted another one he says yes. He even smiles back at her.

Her expression grows puzzled, but she says nothing.

Only once he has the second sandwich and is busy eating does she continue to speak.

“Johnny, my brother, has a friend. Wyatt. He isn’t exactly a therapist, but he has helped members of the Fantastic Four to overcome injuries before. I could call him and I am sure he could help you develop exercises to get your body to get used to being whole again.”

Genis nods. “Thank you,” he says, after swallowing another bite.

She scrutinizes him again, and nods. “Alright.” Apparently finally satisfied she gets up and busies herself around the kitchen, while he finishes the second sandwich. Halfway through he finds himself getting nauseous again and stops eating. Apparently no part of his is up to speed yet. Rick would probably...

A sense of presence breaks his thought pattern. He looks up and sees Melissa standing at the kitchen door, looking at him with worried eyes.

There is only one thing he can say. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

She hesitates for a moment before coming in. “It's alright.” She points to the second chair and – in a gesture that was encompassing both him and Sue – asks “May I?“

After Susan gives a nod while putting several mugs under a gleaming coffee machine, Genis nods too.

Melissa sits down gracefully and wraps her slender fingers around the mug Susan places in front of her. Her entire aspect is watchful, careful. Like she is about to handle something volatile that might explode. Not that he can blame her for it. But he also remembers her holding him in her arms like a child and she has not been watchful then.

“Are you afraid of me now?“ He can’t help it. He wants to know where she is standing. “Did I hurt you?“

“No! Oh God, no!” Her eyes glisten with sudden tears. “I am afraid of hurting you.” She bites her lip.

A stupid line from one of Ricks songs comes to his mind. “Your words can never hurt me…” Except that isn’t true. Words can hurt. And he doesn’t think he can muster the bravado to lie like that. “Please, don’t be afraid of me. I... Don’t want that. I...” Words flee. But he thinks of how Sue has tried to overcome the limitations of words and holds out his trembling hand to Melissa and she takes it and steadies it.

“Genis—I... how much do you remember of what happened to you?” she asks.

He frowns, trying to sort through the jumbled mess that period was. He is sure one of the things he remembers has happened, but he can’t tell which one it is, and it is all confused—he is fairly sure some of the things were actually unholy hybrids of several realities his mind glued together because his head was not satisfied with the mess it already was and wanted to become a black hole.

“I think someone tried to kill me,” he eventually says.

Melissa closes her eyes, as if thinking about something unpleasant. When she opens them, she has the expression she usually wears when she decided to do something the consequences of she would not like.

“Baron Zemo did,” she says. “We didn't stop him. He had a solution to what was happening with you—I'm sorry. I should have tried harder, but-”

He squeezes her fingers. “There was no other way until now. I couldn’t see another way either. I...” he pauses.  “I understand. And I'm here now. So-”

“If you don't want to see me anymore-” Melissa starts to say, and he shakes his head emphatically. Or tries to, only to feel a maelstrom open in his head that almost swallows him. He would have fallen if not for Melissa’s hands and the invisible force field to catch him. The monitor on his wrist is beeping frantically. Intermittently he is aware of lying on the floor, his head cushioned on something soft and warm. The stilted tones of Mr Fantastic “Just his blood pressure dropping a little. He is still weak and needs rest. Don't worry.”

The steelier note of Susan, “A guestroom. Not your lab.” Melissa’s soft murmur, and her hands holding his head as he dry heaves, only barely managing to keep the food down. Then a soothing coolness streams down his veins and finally the world steadies again. 

He is lying in a bed, and both Reed Richards and Susan Richards are standing over him, she looking worried, he looking critical. Melissa is by his side, holding his hand. He is clinging to her; he only now becomes aware. Her face is white with shock and exhaustion, her eyes red and swollen like she has been crying a lot. He knows he will fall asleep in a moment, but he manages to lift his hand enough to brush her cheek. “You look like I feel.”


	10. Day 3, Part 3: du gegen mein Verlorengehen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from the song "Dein Hurra" by Bosse and means "You against my being lost"

There have been so many things that seemed familiar about Genis, but it is only now that she is starting to piece it all together and getting the full picture. She has known that no one comes out undamaged from the Darkforce Dimension, and that before Genis was under enormous strain. Recently, she has also realised that there might have been more to the odd behaviours she noted than just him being preoccupied. It is also to be expected that he'd be upset and traumatized, but the way he is reacting, the way he behaves...

She would have stayed with him, but Mr. Fantastic all but threw her out. They were very reasonable about it, but the underlying current had been that she’d only be in the way.  “You need rest. And Genis-Vell will not wake for at least twelve hours, so go home.”

And Susan Richards echoes that sentiment, so Melissa gives in.

Except she needs to talk to someone, so she sends a text to Captain Marvel, who picks her up at the Baxter Building. Superheroes being able to ignore traffic jams is a very useful thing.

The older woman steers her to the nearest Starbucks. “You look like you need a coffee. Or five.” At this hour of the afternoon, it is almost empty. With her inner clock messed up by several sleepless nights caffeinated things likely aren’t a good idea, so Melissa orders hot chocolate instead. The sugar makes her head feel less filled with cotton, enough to notice that apparently two super heroes in costumes don’t even draw second looks in this city.

“I'm worried about Genis,” she says to Captain Marvel, when they are both seated in one of the comfortable booths. “I think someone abused him when he was younger. I mean... he takes so long to trust others. And he doesn't really seem very good with building relationships with others, and he seems so... so starved for any sort of positive attention, but when you try to help he doesn't let you.”

She pauses. Is she right to trust her instinct, or is she projecting her own experiences on Genis? Is it really that unusual that he wouldn’t have trusted anyone with his problems with his powers for so long, and how he refuses to accept help now unnatural?

“You're right.” Captain Marvel nods emphatically as she answers, her lips pursed into a tight line. “Elysius grew into a monster, and no one bothered to stop her.”

“That's his mother, right?” Melissa doesn’t like how the things are all falling into place, but at least it means she isn’t just being suspicious over nothing. Her instinct didn’t fail her.

“Yes,” Captain Marvel replies. Her expression grows colder, as she tells Melissa more about Genis's mother. It makes her wish she had been wrong much more vehemently long before Carol Danvers finishes relaying what she knows.

“How do you know this?” Melissa asks after a moment of silence. Then, since it came out rather curt, she adds, “Ma'am.”

Her expression softens some. “Call me Carol. There's no need for you to be that formal with me,” she says, taking a sip of her coffee and looking up. The sky outside is overcast, and a slight fog is starting to hide the buildings. “I had another dream about Mar-Vell.”

“Genis dreamed about him too,” Melissa replies. “I... told him that you did too.”

 They watch the vista outside in silence for a while, for which Melissa is grateful. She has time to digest what she just heard. Then, Carol speaks up again. “We also should talk to Rick Jones. He might have other useful insights, since according to Janet he and Genis managed to do a repeat of the two-in-one negaband deal.”

“He’s one of the people participating in the big charity concert tomorrow, isn’t he?” Melissa replies.

“Is he?” Carol asks. “That's quite convenient.” She studies Melissa for a moment, before adding, “Are you alright? You do look like someone pushed you through a sieve.“

“I am just tired, but thank you,” Melissa says. Still, she can’t help but smile—even after all this time, it made her feel warm and fuzzy if someone expresses concern for her. Even a bit.

Except Carol still eyes her critically. “Just when did you last eat?”

Melissa frowns. There was the hamburger… And then breakfast on the next morning. Then she left for the Baxter Building… After Genis woke up, Mr. Fantastic sent her to the kitchen for food, except Genis collapsed and everything turned frantic. “Yesterday. I think.”

The older woman shakes her head disapprovingly. “Let’s do something about that, ok?” 

 

* * *

 

Since Melissa looks ready to pass out at any moment, Carol decides to go for dinner somewhere else is not a good idea. So, she just buys her a lunch box and makes her eat most of it. The younger woman almost falls asleep while she eats. Which isn’t in any way surprising, after the last few days. Carol herself is emotionally weary, and her investment is not nearly as big.

She is there because Mar-Vell asked her to help. Melissa is there, because she loves, because she made a mistake... Impulsively, Carol puts a hand on Melissa's shoulder.

“It's going to be alright,” she says. Her gut feeling is that she shouldn’t leave the girl alone, but so far she cannot come up with any way to stick around that won’t sound presumptuous.

Melissa looks up at her. “But it will suck for quite a while, before it does, won't it?”

It sounds so very familiar—the kind of fatalism Carol heard from other soldiers, and yet, it's not exactly the same. She squeezes Melissa's shoulder. “It usually does. But hey, while you're alive, you can keep kicking back until something improves.”

“It would be nice if someone would give you instructions on what to kick and when, though,” Melissa answers and yawns again. Her face is pale and drawn.

“You’re doing fine?” Carol says reassuringly, before getting up and picking up their trays. “I’ll just take these away and get you to a cab then, alright?”

Melissa nods, wrapping her arms around herself. “I guess I really ought to get to bed.”

There’s a short delay, when Carol has to sort the trays on the shelf, before she can drop off theirs. She returns to their table and finds Melissa curled up on her side, fast asleep on the upholstered bench. 

Tentatively she shakes Melissa a little. “Hey, kid, wake up? You need to get home first.”

That’s the moment when people tend to believe they are kids and have to go to school. Except Melissa doesn’t say ‘mom’. What she murmurs sounds like “Clint.” She doesn’t wake though.

Problem. Let her sleep it off a bit and then put her into a taxi? That feels impersonal. Carol watches Melissa for a moment, noting the slender hands tightened into fists, and the drawn face.

“It’s ok, girl”, she says. “It’s ok.”

  

* * *

 

Marina has been warned that Carol will bring a guest. And since Kit would try to catch a glimpse anyway, they wait for her inside the balcony. It’s late afternoon, and the sky is darkening rapidly. Low clouds have poured rain for most of the day, only leaving off in the last hour.

Captain Marvel lands on the balcony, and with a quick burst of energy dries herself and her passenger off. She carries a slim young woman with distinct pink and white hair in her arms, dressed in a black suit with white designs. Marina – being not a superhero fangirl anymore – can’t place her.

When Kit starts forward to take a closer look, Marina holds her back. “Wait.”

Carol gives her a grateful smile, as she carries the young woman inside and puts her down on a sofa. She looks around to locate a blanket, which she then uses to cover the sleeping woman. Only then she retreats to the balcony.

“It’s Songbird,” she says. “You might remember her from the Thunderbolts. Poor kid is exhausted and pretty much fell asleep on her legs.”

“Then we should let her rest.” Marina firmly steers Kit out of the room. “I’ll get a nightshirt for her, if she wakes up enough to change.”

Carol nods, and Marina casts a final glance at the sleeping Songbird. The young woman curled up under the blanket, but shows no sign of waking. Her long hair spilled over her face and it covers most of it now. It’s the mother in her that makes her push it back. The girl doesn’t stir. She seems very young from this perspective, and at the same time, she isn’t entirely relaxed. There is a kind of a shadow over her features, the kind you sometimes see in children that needed to grow up too fast.

Still, there’s not much Marina can do about it—she doesn’t know the young woman or how well Carol knows her. At least well enough so she would take her home instead of just taking a hotel room. So, she adjusts the blanket and leaves Songbird alone.


	11. Day 3, Part 4: Dein Hurra gegen das Versinken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from the song "Dein Hurra" by Bosse and means literally "your hurrah against sinking", but the meaning is closer to "your defiance against going under".

The world is gone again – Genis is lost in the dark, and knows he’ll never be able to find his way back again. This time no one will come for him either. He had his chance, but how many chances can one be given, if all one does is waste them?

He still tries to look for a way out because if he does not he will be alone with just himself, with knowledge that all he can do is fail over and over. Every movement is like a knife stabbing into his muscles, and it only takes a few faltering steps for him to fall.

There is nothing beneath him to arrest the fall and he does not have the strength to fly. Not in the dark, not when the cold is seeping into his bones-

And then he sees a light. It’s distant, but bright enough to give him some strength so he can fly towards it. It’s still hard to do so, his body aching from the sheer effort of using his powers, but the light grows brighter, and then he’s standing in front of a little blond boy.

The child smiles at him, and takes Genis’s hand.

“There is someone waiting for you,” the boy says, and Genis wakes up. The child is no longer there, but he slips Genis’s mind almost as soon as he opens his eyes. His father is sitting next to him holding his hand. The touch doesn’t feel entirely like flesh – it just leaves a vague sense of warmth.

Genis tries to sit up, but he moves far too quickly, and his muscles spasm in protest. He falls back on the pillow and barely manages to stop himself from whimpering. Mar-Vell puts his hand on Genis’s forehead and brushes it through his hair. It doesn’t make the pain go away but it somehow makes it much more bearable. Before he can stop himself, Genis says the very first thing that comes to his mind. “Please don’t leave me.”

He regrets it almost as soon as the last syllable dies on his lips. He sounds like desperate selfish child, begging for more than he deserves. But his father doesn’t fade. He keeps on stroking Genis’s hair, and says, “I’m with you. I’m not going away.”

“I’m sorry,” Genis all but whispers. “You shouldn’t have to- I’m never going to be the son you’d have wanted and- and I’m just-“ He stumbles over the words, trying to fit all that he wanted to tell his father for so long into a few sentences, but all he manages is to tangle himself up in apologies.

“I love you, son,” Mar-Vell  replies, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s not going to change if you make mistakes.”

Genis lets out a shuddering breath, and manages to smile. 

 

* * *

 

 

Some things follow you like a smelly old dog and apparently one of them is being involved with super heroes. Rick opens the hotel minibar, and takes out a beer for himself and orange juice for the newest Captain Marvel. He’s not sure what he thinks of Carol Danvers, and he’s fairly certain that she’s not here for an autograph, or even to talk about good old times when some thing or other kidnapped Rick. Certainly her expression is everything but nostalgic.

“We got Genis-Vell out of Darkforce Dimension,” Carol says.

Rick chokes on his beer. He coughs for a moment, before managing, “How on Earth did he get there? Wasn’t he dead?”

“Spectacular case of bad luck, and no, he wasn’t,” Carol replies.

Rick considers what to say next carefully, and finally settles for, “Tell him I said hi.”

That earns him a very flat look of disbelief.

“I...” he pauses. “I did not exactly do myself proud with Genis, okay?”

Now he is faced with an unimpressed look. Carol crosses her arms over her chest and starts tapping her finger against her forearm.

“Hindsight sucks,” he tries to explain. “Knowing what I know now, I remember things he said or did that should have worried me.”

“I was worried you might say that,” Carols says.

“Should I prepare for the end of days?” he asks with forced flippancy.

“That was tasteless,” Carol says dryly. “Just tell me how bad did it get.”

“He tried committing suicide twice in the time I knew him,” Rick replies softly. “But by then the mental link between us was very weak. He could easily block me.”

He thinks about it some more. “He had hallucinations occasionally. Now that I think about it, some of the times when we thought it was his cosmic awareness being unreliable, it could have just been in his head. I don’t know, it was nothing like in the movies, so...”

Carol watches him in silence, before asking, “And you didn’t recommend he should get therapy?”

Rick blinks. “No, his mother helped him. He was fine when we got separated.”

The look Carol gives him is all focus and scrutiny, as if she didn’t believe him.

“He wouldn’t have listened earlier,” Rick adds. “Maybe if I had taken my head out of my ass before he had a breakdown...” But this is really not helpful, so instead he tells Carol about the breakdown. Talking about it is still as unpleasant as it had been back when it was still fresh. He especially does not enjoy admitting what he had said in the end in his frustration – petty words born out of anger at someone who could not defend himself, and that were so blatantly untrue. “Can you tell him I said I was sorry about that?”

“You will have to apologise on your own,” Carol replies.

Rick looks down at his feet, and breathes out. “I’ll stay in New York after the concert. At least for a while. If you think that’s a good idea..”

“You be the judge of that,” Carol answers.


	12. Day 3, Part 5: Hurra Hurra und dann kommt Licht

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from the song "Dein Hurra" by Bosse and means "Hurra, hurra and then there's light".

It’s quite late when Carol returns from her discussion with Rick Jones. Marina and Kit already have withdrawn for the night, and Melissa is still sleeping soundly on the couch in the guest room, the nightshirt and toilet things untouched. Only Chewie is awake and greets her by walking towards the kitchen. Carol just manages to pour water into her glass, before she feels Chewie’s paw on her calf. She looks towards the bowl with cat food and sees that it is empty. She goes towards the cupboard where she keeps the cans with food for Chewie, while simultaneously trying to avoid stepping on a cat that is rubbing against her legs.

Then, just as she opens the cupboard Chewie stops and makes a confused “meow?” sound that distracts her from that task.

She turns around and sees Mar-Vell.

“I am awake and I can see you,” she says.

“I’m getting stronger,” he replies. He does not sound like it’s good thing.

“Does it mean mom will you see you now?” Kit asks, as she pads into the kitchen. Her hair is disheveled from sleep and her pajamas are rather rumpled, her bare feet peeking out from under the pants legs. “May I have some juice?”

Carol looks at Mar-Vell, who appears to take the interruption in stride.

“No, I don’t think I will get to this point yet,” he says. “Not for some time, anyway.”

Kit accepts a glass of juice from Carol, who feels like reality has decided to go somewhere strange and unexpected.

“This is cool,” she says. “I live with Captain Marvel in the Statue of Liberty, which is haunted.”

“Which is haunted by Captain Marvel,” Mar-Vell adds in the very serious tone that Carol remembers him using when he was joking.

“You’re being very casual about this,” Carol says, mustering her best disapproving tone.

It only manages to puzzle Mar-Vell. “It would not help in any way if I lost my head, would it?”

“I was talking to Kit,” Carol replies.

“I met your friend earlier,” Kit says. “And he’s your friend, so I don’t have to be afraid.”

Carol can’t exactly argue with logic, and doesn’t really get a chance to do so, because Chewie decides to remind everyone she is there and has no food. There is a loud crash, which makes Carol and Mar-Vell jump. Then an imperious meow follows, and Carol turns around to look at her flerken giving her a very meaningful look while standing next to scattered cutlery.

“Sorry Chewie,” Carol groans, knowing by now that there is no point in debating etiquette with Chewie and the only way she can get the conversation to a point where she knows where she is standing is to actually feed her flerken.

“You know she’s a flerken?” Mar-Vell says. “They’re supposed to be extinct.”

“I know she will be a drama queen if I don’t feed her,” Carol replies.

“Cats aren’t extinct,” Kit says and fortunately Mar-Vell seems to catch what Carol meant by her evasive answer, and does not enlighten Kit on what a flerken is.

The girl finishes her juice peacefully, and puts the glass into the dishwasher. Then she looks at Mar-Vell and Carol.

“I’ll let you talk about boring adult stuff,” Kit informs them graciously and leaves.

Carol looks out through the door for a while and then asks, “What do you mean by getting stronger?”

“I… Think I’m coming back to life,” Mar-Vell replies.

Carol stares in silence while her brain re-engages. “You sound annoyed.”

“My body is in the Kree galaxy. I feel its pull,” Mar-Vell replies. „But I am needed here. As much as I wished for a chance to help my son in person, now I am going to go away when he needs me most.“

Carol turns crimson. “Sorry, we tried to find you, once the whole mess was over, but it wasn’t possible. But I will find a way to get you back to earth.”

Mar-Vell shrugs. “I guess I will find out what the situation with my body is eventually. But that is not the point. Genis needs me now. And so much could go wrong while getting here. Like getting trapped in the negative zone again.”

“Don’t even think that. You will stay nice and quiet wherever you wake up and wait for me.“

Mar-Vell smiles "I promise." Then he is gone again, just like that.

Carol sighs. "I will be very glad when he can't do that anymore", she tells Chewie. And then it finally hits her, what she just heard. What it all means. Overwhelmed by the need to talk to someone, she leaves through the window, unaware of the tears on her face.

 

* * *

  

The life of superheroes is only very, very loosely connected to the sort of life normal people live, Jessica Drew thinks. After all, not even the most idiotic soap opera would dare to show a scene where someone’s best friends shows up, all flustered and between laughing and crying and telling them that their lost love is coming back to life, except they never were really together except after he died “and what the fuck do I do now given I already have a relationship and please hold me because Mar-Vell is coming back and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll make coffee and get Roger. And then we can talk about this in a way that makes actual sense?”

Carol nods, and wipes her nose when Jess leaves her in the kitchen with a mug of coffee and hands Gerry to Roger, who looks even hairier when woken from sleep.

It isn’t like things like that do not happen. They do. She can name names and place places, and she’d run out of fingers if she tried to number them. Generally, the dearly departed has more decorum and does not come back after ten years, though.

And that makes her think back to when she was on Titan, when Mar-Vell was dying. That had been her meeting with the man whose title her best friend ended up taking—a pale body hooked up to so many machines, just inches away from death. She had talked with him even, just for a bit.  She had been the person to tell him that Carol was somewhere in the Shi’ar Empire and likely couldn’t come back. They had exchanged a few more bits of small talk after that, while Eros and a dark-haired Eternal woman watched.

But, in the end, she didn’t really know Mar-Vell other than that he was one of the people who keep on a brave face when dying and that he managed to get others to put away their differences, even a group as notoriously rich in egos as Earth’s mightiest heroes. Taking that to account, Jess thinks it’s not all that surprising Carol is still in love with the man, even after so long.

“So, what exactly happened?” she asks, as she makes some more coffee.

“I’ve been having those dreams,” Carol says, and Jess feels a little alarm bell go off in her head. Just a little one, because dreams do not have to be a sign that someone is messing with your head, but nevertheless. “Reed Richards already checked—no one is trying to possess me.”

Which is definitely a relief. “Okay, dreams. With Mar-Vell, I guess.”

That is when the waterworks start again. There’s some blubbering too, but Jess manages to make out that the problem is that Carol knows they are in love still and she doesn’t know what do about Rhodey. It’s not like they are really together… But still she is worried she will hurt Rhodey. Which, come to think of it, is quite telling.

Her best friend doesn’t want help making up her mind—she already has chosen—she just needs Jess to tell her that. And given how she always resisted making her thing with Rhodey official…

“You should just break up with him,” she says eventually. “You shouldn’t force him to compete in something you know he won’t win. And it’s not like he’ll be surprised.”

Carol sniffs, but at least it doesn’t seem like she’s going to dispute that.

“I spoke with Hank. He told me about what happened on Hala. I think the words were ‘blind idiot’.”

Carol frowns. “What?”

“Only a blind idiot would have missed that the Phoenix was a firecracker compared to the sparks between Carol and Captain Marvel.” She quotes. “Oh, and there was the other gem about how your brain, and Mar-Vell’s, too, seemed to have been turned off for quite a while. He didn’t so much draw a picture, as paint a huge diorama and sculpt cupids over it.”

Carol chokes. “I’m going to kill Hank.”

Jess makes sympathetic noises, and pats Carol’s shoulder. “Be fair to Rhodey. Tell him the truth.”

“The universe sucks. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s a great guy,” Carol says in a somewhat calmer tone. She takes a sip of her coffee then. “I wasn’t playing with him. But, I… I don’t think anyone plans for something like this.”

“Well, no, usually death is quite permanent,” Jess says. “We’re just outliers.” 

That makes Carol laugh. “Hard to argue with that,” she says.

 

* * *

 

Rick Jones sighs and stares out of the window examining his reflection where it hovers over the illuminated skyline of New York at night. He is more rattled than he wants to admit. Talking to Carol Danvers brought up a lot of memories and most of them are rather unpleasant.

Nobody likes to admit that they screwed up out of pathetic reasons when they should have been the mature one. And only now he realises how much he has been kicking someone unable to defend himself.

He buries his face in his hands.

"Marlo?"

"Yes?" His wife puts a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"

"Tell me something. Do you think I am cruel?"

Her hesitation tells him more than he wants to know.

"No. You are not a cruel man. But sometimes, when you do not think, or when you are caught on the wrong foot, you can lash out and say things that are cruel. You regret them, and you apologise, but sometimes it cannot make the sting go away."

She wraps her arms around him. "Why did you ask me now?"

He tells her. "I don't think there is any way I can apologise for this."

Marlo kisses him on the cheek. "No, but you will try. And hope it's enough."


	13. Day 4, Part 1: The mysteries of time, clouds that hide the sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is taken from Iron Maiden's "Ghost of the Navigator"

Melissa is woken by unfamiliar sounds—a child and a woman speaking. There’s also some clanking, like someone is preparing food, and as she sits up and rubs her eyes, she smells something savoury and appetising. The room is unfamiliar to her—and she looks around, alarmed, taking stock of her surroundings. The last thing she remembers is talking to Carol…

Who is sitting in an armchair across the room, reading a book. Melissa must have made a sound, because Carol turns to look at her and smiles. “You fell asleep when we were talking yesterday,” she says. “I brought you to my place—I hope you don’t mind?”

Melissa isn’t sure if she does. On the other hand, she guesses she did feel safe around Carol, otherwise adrenalin would have kept her awake. So, she shakes her head. For a moment, she wonders where she is, but the sky outside is empty, showing nothing of the city. It’s also daylight out there, so she slept quite long. She probably needed it. Her stomach growls, showing she needs something else, too.

Carol grins. “Marina is making lunch. I hope you don’t mind stew.”

“It smells really nice,” Melissa says. “But I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re our guest, so it’s really no problem,” Carol says and gets up. “Bathroom is over there, and I put a towel and a change of clothes in there, too. Come to the kitchen when you’re ready.”

Melissa is a bit surprised at how casual this is all being—but well… Carol does seem very direct in general.

When she finishes getting ready and enters the kitchen, there’s a plate of stew and a mug of coffee waiting for her (there’s a picture of Princess Leia on it). The little girl she heard singing is finishing off the stew with gusto, while her mother is making herself some coffee. Then Carol grabs another bowl and sits down to eat, too.

The little girl looks up, and dives under the table. She re-emerges a moment later, brandishing the old Songbird action figure from the Osborn days.

“You’re Songbird, right?” the girl says and beams at her. “You yell at things.”

“Sort of,” Melissa says, once she swallows her first spoon of soup. “My- throat has been modified, so I can make sound into things.” She hums softly for a moment to create an additional spoon and hands it to the girl.

“Cool,” the girl says as she takes the spoon. She inspects it, and pokes her stew with it a few times, before finishing it off.

Behind her, Carol whispers at probably the girl’s mother, “You bought Osborn toys?”

“Only that one and the Ms Marvel one,” the woman replies. Melissa manages not to cringe, but only just. “Do you know how few action figures of superheroines exist? Captain America and Iron Man have enough to fill a room on their own, but the only one of your old costume is the Osborn one—and it wasn’t even you wearing it.”

“My first costume was a mess,” Carol says diplomatically. “Osborn’s Ms Marvel had my second costume actually.”

Melissa never heard of that and apparently, she is not the only one.

The little girl, in the process of running out of the room, probably to get the other toy, stops. “But I’ve never seen a different costume before the red one?”

Carol sighs, and then admits: “Well, it wasn’t that dissimilar. Still the difference was significant.”

When Kit does present the figure of Karla – looking very much not like Karla – in the red and black of Ms. Marvel, she explains. “The very first version was almost like that, it just had a bared belly.”

Given that her early costumes also featured that, Melissa shakes her head, “No, your first costume wasn’t nearly bad enough to be described as a mess. Trust me, I know what a mess of a costume looks like.”

Carol frowns and eyes her sceptically, clearly trying to remember if there was a different version of the Songbird costume.

Melissa raises her eyebrows. “Hint, it’s not this one.”

Enlightenment dawns on the older woman’s features. “Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” Melissa can’t help but grin. In hindsight, it’s just ridiculous. “All versions of it, one worse than the other. It wasn’t even stupidly sexy. Just stupid.”

Kit and Marina do not get it, though.

“I used to be Screaming Mimi,” Melissa explains. “That’s why I was one of the Thunderbolts, to make amends. Anyway, my costumes back then were quite atrocious.”

Proving that Mimi’s profile always was quite low, Marina has to look up pictures on her smart phone, with Carol and Kit peeking over her shoulder. Marina’s eyes go wide, but to Melissa’s surprise she doesn’t comment on Melissa’s head looking like a cupcake, but asks, “But how old were you? These pictures are ten years old and you can’t be more than twenty-five.”

“As Screaming Mimi? Fifteen when I started,” Melissa replies honestly. “I’m twenty-six now.”

Marina seems to be processing that while Kit has another question. “That looks like something from a circus.” She frowns. “Oh, you were a wrestler. I’m not allowed to watch wrestling yet. I didn’t know it’s something girls do, too.”

“It was a fad back then. Female wrestlers, and later female wrestlers with superpowers,” Melissa explains. “But that wasn’t the end of it.” Just how can she explain all of this to a child? And her road towards this career started at a time when she wasn’t really older than this girl. She looks to Carol for help.

“Well, the wrestlers needed to get superpowers from somewhere, and Roxxon provided them,” Carol explains. “In return, they wanted some favours, which involved stealing from Project Pegasus. That…”

“Was a spectacularly bad idea,” Melissa finishes. “We got caught.”

“But you realized this was bad, and now you’re a super hero,” Kit says, as she looks at Melissa. 

“Eventually.” Melissa nods. “When we became the Thunderbolts, most of us discovered that we didn’t want to stay bad people. And we tried to do right.”

“Oh,” Kit says and nods. “So, you’re like Hawkeye? The guy one?”

“Sort of. That’s why he decided to help us for a while.” She manages not to sound hurt, but it’s hard. That Clint… No, it’s best not to think about it right now.

“And do you know who the other Ms Marvel was?” Kit asks, holding up a figure of Karla for Melissa to look at.

She tries to think of a diplomatic answer, especially given that unlike Kit, she can see Carol’s expression and clearly someone is very much not happy with Karla having had their superhero name, but fortunately, Marina swoops in.

“Kit, dear, you do remember that you’re not supposed to ask about identities of superheroes, if they’re not public, right?” she says. “It can be dangerous for people to know them.”

“I don’t want to know who she is, I just want to know if Ms Songbird knows,” the girl answers resolutely.

“I… Do know,” Melissa says after a moment. “But I don’t think she’d like people to know.”

“You’ve got homework to do, Kit,” her mother says, pre-empting any further questions. The little girl sighs very dramatically then.

“Do I have to?” she asks.

“Yes,” Marina replies firmly.

The girl sighs again and turns to Melissa. “Bye then.” She takes a step out the door and then, turns around and yells "But she definitely isn't as cool as Carol", before running off.

Melissa feels mortified, before catching Carol's subdued giggles. Slowly, she starts giggling too, and for a while they are both laughing quietly.

“Do you want some more coffee?” Carol asks, once she eventually calms down.

Melissa nods and moves to sit down again behind the table, when she realizes there is something she wants to ask her.

“How did you meet Genis's father?”

Carol seems taken aback first, but then she grows thoughtful. Finally, she smiles. “He came to Earth to spy for the Kree at a place where we were doing tests for space travel. I was the chief of security there. He pretended to be a scientist—he was actually doing a really good job of it, but something didn't add up. And then, the mysterious Captain Marvel showed up.”

“And you figured out your scientist guy was Captain Marvel?” Melissa asks.

“No. I asked Captain Marvel to help me check out Doctor Lawson,” Carol grins. “Who, as it turned out, had existed, and had been involved with some offshoot of AIM, I think.”

Melissa giggles. "And then?“

"All sorts of crazy things kept happening,“ Carol answers. "We had at least ten supervillains trying to steal things in one week. Then Skrulls showed up to spy on the Kree and I had to take one of them out—Mar-vell got himself knocked out before.“

Melissa blinks. “I think I can see whose luck Genis has inherited.”


	14. Day 4, Part 2: Where I go I do not know / I only know the place I've been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is taken from Iron Maiden's "Ghost of the Navigator".

The next time Genis wakes up, he is alone. This time, he is careful as he sits up, and manages to do so without too much pain. He looks around the room, which is fairly large and fairly personality-less. The guestroom that he vaguely recalls someone mentioning, he guesses.

He wonders if Melissa is alright – she seemed so tired before. He reaches out with his mind, but nothing happens. He senses nothing, as if the universe was only the darkness behind his eyes and not an ever shifting picture of possibilities. At first, he is simply startled, and tries to reach out again, but the only thing in his mind are his own thoughts. It shouldn’t terrify him so, and yet his pulse quickens, and he can’t stop himself from wondering just what had broken in his head this time-

The door hisses open, and the boy from his dream walks in. He looks like he’s ten, and a bit like Susan Richards.

“Hi,” the child says, as he sits down on the bed next to Genis. He doesn’t appear to be in any way intimidated by the presence of a stranger. “I’m Franklin. You’re Genis.”

“You were in my dream,” Genis replies.

“You were going too far away,” Franklin explains. He looks at Genis and adds, “And now you’re worried because you can’t use your powers.”

“How do you know that?” Genis asks, before he can think better about it. He tries to sense the shape of reality again, but there is nothing to tell him if the boy is a powerful telepath or something else.

Franklin shrugs. “I know it because you’re unhappy.”

“I should be happy it’s gone,” Genis replies trying very hard not to sound bitter and failing. “I can’t use it properly at all.”

“It’s not gone,” Franklin says. “Dad made something to block your powers, because you need to get well first.”

This makes sense. He made enough of a mess before. Genis buries his face in his hands, and manages a groan of, “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not,” Franklin says and pats his arm. “You are hurting. Not just your body, but also your mind. So you need time to heal.” The boy’s clear blue eyes hold a wisdom beyond his years, yet a child’s faith.

“No. I know who I will be when I grow up. The world can be a bad place, yes, but I can make it better.”  Sitting on the bedside, the boy shakes his head. “I am not afraid of the future.”

Genis turns away. He cannot share this faith. Whether Mr. Fantastic managed to make him harmless or not, he still doesn’t know his future, only he is afraid of it still. He will find a way to fail, will he?

Franklin jumps down and stomps his foot angrily. “Don’t say silly things like that.”

The door hisses again and Mr. Fantastic says, “There you are, Franklin,” as he enters.

Franklin turns towards Reed Richards and demands, “Tell him he won’t fail.”

Mr. Fantastic looks at Genis, who hopes he doesn’t look as out of his depth as he feels. “Failing isn’t something anyone can avoid, Franklin. And most people worry about it to some degree. The scientific process is in fact one could say inviting failure – you cannot know your hypothesis is true unless you have put it to the test. Absolute certainty, on the other hand, is something one should avoid.” 

Franklin sighs heavily.

“Confidence is a good thing,” Reed Richards says. “But it doesn’t mean that people should not be allowed to worry that they will get something wrong, or that they will not succeed. It doesn’t mean they will fail, or that they won’t try regardless.”

“But there is a difference between worrying and being convinced that you will do something stupid.”

“Yes. Then it does become a hindrance.” Mr. Fantastic looks from his little son to Genis, who feels like hiding underneath the blanket.

“I did not give up” he whispers.

“No, you didn’t,” Reed Richards replies. “That’s why you are here.”

It takes Genis a moment to process this, but apparently there is something he got right. And if there is one thing, there might be more… 

 

* * *

 

After she reaches the Solar System, it turns out that humans decided to do something about people from other planets coming to visit, and Una is now on some sort of a primitive space-station that is brimming with weapons, and has a crew of... well, everything, really.

Still, since she is quite adamant she has no hostile intentions and has been cooperating, she has some time to consider how to find out about Genis and what happened to him. 

She can seek out the woman who hit her with a metal box, but there is the matter of the metal box between them. It might have not been entirely undeserved, but Una suspects that she'd spend a lot more time explaining that she really has good intentions this time around, honest, than one might consider reasonable.

She could try with those... Avengers? But they were affiliated with the traitor Mar-Vell, and the newest Captain Marvel is—depending on which rumours you listened to—either his wife, daughter or sister. Una is fairly certain the wife option is unlikely, given that the woman is not an Eternal, and therefore not related to Genis-Vell. She also appears to be too old for a daughter, unless time-travel is involved. But she could be a half-sister—either through some experiment or simply because what's-his-name-Vell the older had a weakness for Pinks.

Besides, she heard the theory about her being a wife from a Skrull and that means she is supposed to discard it on principle. Exiled or not, she has some standards to uphold.

Regardless, the Avengers are definitely going to be suspicious of her, so they are not an option either.

Having discarded those options, Una is left with the most mundane. She has to find some source of Earth news from the time of Genis-Vell's disappearance. It is not all that complicated—a lot easier than in the Kree Empire, actually. A child of a pink officer would be also in the military, and as such, information about them would be dispensed only through official channels (or gossip and letters).

Here, she simply asks one of the humans in uniform and they direct her to a computer with access to a world-wide information (and pornography, naturally...) network.

And then she spends several days trawling through news about the newest Captain Marvel—the woman is amazingly popular; information about the traitor Mar-Vell (varying between wildly inaccurate to only somewhat inaccurate), and quite a lot of outrage about the fact that Spectrum (previously also known as Pulsar, Photon and Captain Marvel) has straightened her hair/has stopped straightening her hair.

It is actually thanks to Spectrum/Pulsar/Photon/Captain Marvel that Una finally finds something—apparently, Genis-Vell had decided to switch to calling himself Photon instead of Captain Marvel while she was still using Photon, and that happened when he was involved with some group called Thunderbolts.

And then he disappeared.

Well. Una simply sets about finding out about these Thunderbolts, who apparently have started as a group of criminals trying to take over Earth (naturally...) by pretending to be heroes. And then were overtaken by heroic impulses by osmosis. And then became some sort of an official program to reform criminals into heroes, because Earth operates on a logic that is completely removed from reality. 

At this point, Una gets rather distracted by browsing information about the various members: a woman calling herself Songbird (privately, Una wonders about her—why not at least pick something threatening? But she has a good laugh over a photo of a younger Songbird back when she was robbing banks); Abner Jenkins (MACHs I, IV and V—she noted that MACH II has also suddenly gone missing), Atlas (there is an ongoing small-scale war in the comment section on the webpage of his hometown, if he should be made honorary citizen or banned from every establishment), Dr Chen Lu (who was deported from the USA and is being a green glowing superhero in China), Techno (whose current internet presence is limited to reposting pictures of fluffy animals) and Joystick (who apparently betrayed the team, was arrested and has been missing ever since, possibly out of embarrassment over having called herself Joystick). The crimes they had committed varied wildly, from the weird plots only people on Earth would hatch, to simple larceny or murder.

She swallows when she sees that Jenkins had actually been thrown off the team and incarcerated because he had committed murder. Later, the policy got laxer, but it is a reminder to be careful. If they find out about that old lecher… Her chances of walking away from Earth again were not so good.

On that cheerful note, she returns to her research and tries to find more about Genis-Vell. If he died, it should be noted somewhere, right?  And there are deaths among the Thunderbolts, which doesn't surprise Una—those people live dangerous lives. But there had been a lot. First, there was Jolt (a perfectly normal victim of evil science), although she apparently had gotten better. Clearly, some people did not require a brain, and she must have been an example, given that she joined up with the Thunderbolts again, and promptly got vanished in some huge fight. There was MACH II, who seems to have up and disappeared; and Charcoal, who clearly found out that the power of turning into coal on fire was on the useless side. Atlas once managed to explode all over the whole Midwest, which stopped him for a few days or so. They also had some swordsman in purple who disappeared into thin air it seems. Perhaps because he was a human with a sword taking on humans with the power to turn the internal organs of other humans into jelly.

Eventually, Una manages to narrow down those who'd been in the same team as Genis: Songbird (who has page on something called Facebook that hasn't been updated in a while and no other means of contacting), Atlas (Facebook-thing with updates on games and a steady stream of recordings of fuzzy little animals), Dr Chen Lu (who is clearly too busy being green and glowing to have even the Facebook-thing), Blizzard (who was unavailable because apparently New Attilan wasn’t having internet access), the mysterious disappeared swordsman and Joystick (missing, obviously).

Well, it seems that Una has found the people she is going to approach: first Atlas, who well… ought to be vulnerable to an attractive young woman and if that doesn’t pan out she'll try her luck with Songbird or Techno. She just needs to figure out how to use any of those platforms without the grim faced soldiers on the space station objecting.


	15. Day 4, Part 3: Dreams they come and go, ever shall be so, nothings real until you feel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is taken from Iron Maiden's "Ghost of the Navigator".

The door hisses open, and Melissa enters, looking rested again.

“You must be really bored,” she says, as she sits down next to Genis's bed.

He is bored, it is true, but he remembers how tired she looked before and doesn't want her to think she should spend every waking hour hovering over him.

Genis shrugs, which is still a dumb idea, as his spine informs him by sending little lightning bolts through his back. He shuts his eyes and waits for his body to settle back, and then, he gives her a half-smile. “It's a change from the usual?” Then, he adds, “Besides, Susan Richards had someone come and see what to do about physical therapy, so it wasn't like I spent all the time I was awake staring at the wall.”

“Well, I hope you'd prefer watching a concert to staring at the wall,” Melissa replies, and smiles back. “There is a big one on TV today—I wanted to go, actually, but by the time I had a moment to check if there are any tickets, they were all sold out. And you wouldn't believe how much people are selling them for on the web now, so?”

This time Genis doesn't even realise he's grinning until he starts saying “Yes”.

Melissa rattles off who will be playing, and Genis listens half interested until she mentions Rick Jones. Then his eyes widen and he feels like somebody just stepped on his non-existent grave.

“Rick?” His confused feelings must show on his face. Rick… Rick was his friend, his mentor, sort of. Rick saw everything of him, the good things, and also the oh so bad things. He has not seen Rick since they were separated, he couldn’t bear to. What must Rick think of him? He will despise him, probably. Be glad to be rid of him.

“Genis?” Melissa’s voice breaks through his shock. Her hands are on his shoulders, and she looks into his eyes. “What did I do? Are you ok?”

“I’m…” He wants to say fine, but he isn’t and suddenly he does not want to lie. “rattled. Rick and I used to share molecules.” When her expression turns bewildered, he hastily explains what exactly had connected him to the singer. Through her confusion, there’s also a hidden relief he does not understand. As he pours out his confused feelings, she puts her arm around him and supports him. Sitting is still exhausting, so he leans against her.

After he has finished, he also has reached a decision. “Let’s watch this. I … want to see how he did.”

Melissa nods, and doesn’t second guess him which is a new experience. He expects people to ask him if he really means something.

His smile at her is shaky, but genuine, as she helps him to the couch in the adjacent room. There’s a pot of tea with two mugs and a big bowl of something crunchy yet puffy. “Doctor’s orders forbid popcorn yet”, Melissa explains with a lopsided grin.

He returns the grin, but doesn’t understand the bother. Some of the rituals of Earth are still confusing, even after all this time. Gritting his teeth and putting his arm around Melissa is not. She picks up the remote and very carefully, she settles against him, before turning the tv-set on. The tiniest of notes, and the blanket settles around them, pulled up by pink, disembodied hands.

“So, what sort of songs does Rick Jones sing?” asks Melissa, while the last advertisements roll through.

Genis fights down the temptation to shrug again. He never knew there were so many muscles involved in it. “I don’t really know that much about Earth music”, he admits.

“I think he mostly does romantic country ballads about how much he loves his wife, or about how much he misses his wife, or about how he quarrelled with his wife?” Melissa guesses after a moment.

“That sounds about like what I remember,” Genis replies. Then, dutifully, he adds, “He was a bit less mono-thematic, though?”

“It never really was my kind of music,” Melissa says with shrug. He feels a rather irrational stab of envy at that. 

Then, they both fall silent, because the concert is already starting.

 

* * *

 

Carol settles down comfortably on the sofa, and turns on the TV. The concert is just starting, with an aging solarium and gym addict making the announcements along with the Austrian singer who won a European music competition with the most politically agitating mutant-support song ever.

A sense of presence makes her turn. By now she has become sensitive to Mar-vell’s ghostly visits, but she is still stunned to just see him sit by her side on the sofa. She manages to gasp out a “Hi”.

“I went to see how Genis was doing”, he says by way of explanation. “But I didn’t want to disturb him, when I found him and the young woman with the pink hair watch this, too. Also, they were cuddling.”

It sounds astonished, not disapproving. Carol only just hides her grin. “Her name is Melissa. They seem to have been a couple before...” This might change if Genis remembers what happened to him, but so far, he has given no inclination of hard feelings, despite having been told the truth.

Mar-vell nods. “I am certainly not one of those parents who think their children having romantic relationships is taking away from something they own.” He shrugs. “It just surprised me. But I am glad he is not alone.”

Carol finds herself agreeing with this notion. She nods, but as she realises he is uncomfortable with this topic, she decides to leave it be. At that point, the announcer mentions that Rick Jones is among the artists performing and Mar-vell’s attention is immediately drawn there. And then he looks confused.

“That's Conchita Wurst,” she explains. “The winner of a big European music contest—the name means something like er... Seashell Sausage?”

“Ah.” Mar-vell nods. She is prepared to give a deeper explanation, but he doesn’t ask. Instead he puts his arm over Carol's shoulders—it feels warm, but has no weight—like sunlight. Then, he leans against her, his head resting on her shoulder. She can tell that he is miserable—it is always tiny hints with him, like how his mouth tilts downwards, that betray whatever is going on behind the stoic acceptance of his fate.

Carol wishes she could hug him, or even hold his hand. But just vaguely feeling where he is doesn’t allow for much physical interaction.

She closes her eyes for a moment, and almost hears Jessica again telling her she's already chosen, so she might as well stop pretending to be coy. And she already talked with Rhodey, which was the difficult part.

“I broke up with Rhodey,” she says. There. That wasn’t so hard.

Mar-vell sits up straight beside her, and Carol wonders if maybe she should have tried being a tiny little bit more diplomatic. Make it a lot more diplomatic, in fact. “I didn't intend to-”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “But I lost my memory twice now, and I still love you. Even if you don't want to be with me—and you are not acting like that—then it still would be unfair of me to force Rhodey to compete when he can’t win.”

Mar-vell remains silent for a while, studying her solemnly. “I still should not have assumed I can just waltz in and-” He pauses and slides his hand over his face. “It's not because I'm looking for someone to replace Elysius. I guess, no matter how often I did try to convince myself we were only friends, I was lying to myself.”

“Better late than never—it's not like I wasn't doing the same for the longest time,” Carol says. “And I was the one who asked you to stay.”

For a moment, she is silent, while some singer with a mullet is doing his best to keep country alive. 

“Did you know about Genis back on Hala? During the thing with the Phoenix?” she asks finally.

“No,” Mar-vell replies. “I was happy to see you?”

“I noticed,” Carol says, failing to hide a grin. Then, it fell, as she thought about something else that she probably should ask, if they were to avoid informing Titan about Genis. “You asked us not to involve anyone from Titan, but Genis might eventually ask about that side of his family. What can we tell him? In the last few years, a lot of things had happened on Titan and there have been casualties.”

Mar-vell flickers and for a moment his skin looks like the view of a space ship. “Elysius and Mentor are alive and on Titan. Eros is roaming the stars as usual. Phyla is with Moondragon … on holidays?”

The news startles Carol and for a moment, she forgets who she is talking to. “What? But Gamora told me that Thanos killed her. There’s a memorial for her on Hala.”

Mar-vell points to himself with a crooked smile. “It happens. Although I didn’t get a memorial on Hala. Speaking of which, during my last encounter with Thanos, he killed Gamora.”

Carol snorts. “I guess with some people death just doesn’t take.”

There are other things she wants to talk about with him, but back on the screen, the entertainment zombie announces Rick with as much fake enthusiasm a jaded undead with a plastic voice can manage.

Mar-vell turns towards the screen, and watches Rick saunter onto the stage, while waving at the audience.

“I’ve never seen him on stage,” he comments. “Every time I was present for one Rick’s concerts, I was in the Negative Zone and watching it through his eyes.” He pauses and they listen to Rick as he dedicates the first song to his wife and starts crooning a ballad. “I think I see why he was popular back then.” 

“He still is, as far as I know,” Carol says. “His fans grew up with him and his connection to super heroes is still drawing younger people.”

“It’s not unheard of for a war hero to become an entertainer in the Kree Empire,” Mar-vell says. “Or get involved with an entertainer—that sometimes is enough to draw more of a crowd.”

“I guess the entertainment business operates on similar rules everywhere,” Carol replies.

And that’s when Rick decides to draw their attention back. He makes the next announcement, “This one is for a special person. Sometimes, it takes a long time to realise that you screwed up. So, this is a very belated way to say, please forgive me,” he says. Carol would have not thought much had it not been the choice of the song—and it is even more so for Mar-vell. He covers his mouth with his hand and blinks several times.

Carol reaches out to his cheek, to brush away the tears, but there is nothing solid beneath her fingers to touch.


	16. Day 4, Part 4: Take my heart and set it free / Carried forward by the waves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is taken from Iron Maiden's "Ghost of the Navigator".

He ends up with his cheek pressed to Carol's lap, and holding her hand. She's warm and solid, and still very much like he remembers. He did not miss life, but he missed her—something he had only become aware of when the Phoenix briefly brought him back to life. It had changed everything, to find out that while life went on without him, he had not been forgotten.

He remembers several quotes about wishes—one that Captain Prama used to say and which is definitely not to be repeated in polite company, and the other one from a human book. The Kree Empire and Earth seemed to share sentiments on those, and both races had a talent for forgetting about either. He and Elysius had wanted children, and now there was a son.

While he was dead and unable to help him when he had needed him most.

There was also a daughter, but at least Heather is there for her. It doesn’t change that he should have been there for her too, but it is a noticeable improvement.

“Everything alright now?” Carol asks, and he turns around so that he can reach out and touch her cheek.

“Yes,” he says. “Sorry about that.”

“You don’t have to apologize for being human—er… Kree,” Carol answers. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. But an officer shouldn’t lose face like that,” he replies and then adds, “I guess I’m not an officer anymore, but old habits die hard.”

“No, you’re just a man and a father—you don’t have to hide your emotions from me,” Carol says. “I won’t think less of you because you can’t be stoic 24/7. I love you, not the captain from the recruitment poster.”

Mar-vell sits up then, and brushes his lips against hers. “I love you too. All of you.” They kiss again then, the touch as insubstantial as before, which prevents it from going any further. So after a moment, they decide to talk about something else. There’s enough matters they need to discuss.

“I think I should talk with Rick,” he says, and frowns.

“But?” Carol asks, cocking her head to the side.

“He won't hear or see me, I think,” Mar-vell replies. “I'll need you to translate.”

Carol winces. “I will look like an idiot.” She sighs. “Of course, I will do it. But will he believe me?”

“I think Rick should be used to things like this happening by now,” Mar-vell replies.

  

* * *

 

 

Melissa will not admit it, but she is enjoying some of Rick Jones's songs. Objectively, he has a good voice and a good technique, so really, there is nothing embarrassing about admitting that—even if he plays folk songs.

And then he does one of those announcements, where singers usually talk about their grandmother or their father… Only Rick says “This one is for a special person. Sometimes, it takes a long time to realise that you screwed up. So, this is a very belated way to say, please forgive me.”

Rick starts to sing and beside Melissa, Genis freezes up. She glances up, and sees him trying to blink back tears—and then the song finally reaches her brain. “I would have stayed up with you all night if I had known how to save a life…”

She reaches up to Genis's cheek and brushes away the tears. He looks down, blinks once, and lets out one strangled sob, then another, and she shifts, so that she's kneeling next to him and can pull him into a hug that doesn't end up with him curled up awkwardly.

He wraps his arms around her waist, and she feels him shiver, as she rubs his back soothingly. He buries his face in her neck trying to stifle his sobs, but they keep tearing out of him with irresistible force. Still she can’t help but think that this is the loosening of something in him, like a breath held without knowing.

“I'm here with you,” she whispers, and tears slide down her cheeks as well. Her voice hitches in her chest, but she continues, “I'm right here. It’s alright.”

Behind her, Rick Jones finishes his song, and starts another.

Genis's sobs turn quieter, and his shoulders aren't shaking as badly, but she doesn't let go, not even once he is still, and Rick Jones's voice is replaced by that of somebody else.

Finally, Genis looks up, and for a moment, they keep on watching each other in silence. His eyes are red and puffy, but there is relief in them and something like hope. Then, he leans towards her and brushes his lips against her.

It's gentle, fleeting and soft. She tastes the salty tears on his lips, and feels him smile. She wants to lean into the kiss, almost giddy that he would trust her enough, still feel like that. But she pulls back.

She knows better than to believe they can continue where they left off. “Wait.”

The fragile hope in Genis’s eyes crumbles, leaving resignation. “You’re seeing someone else”, he whispers.

“No.” She shakes her head and gently wipes the tears from his cheeks with her thumbs. “There is nobody else. But…”

He seems almost eager to drive the dagger into his own heart. “It’s been too long. You don’t love me anymore.”

“No.” Still holding his face in her hands, she lets him see all her feelings, all the intensity of them in her eyes. “I do love you.” Before he can come up with another explanation, she continues. “There is something you need to know about me, before you can make any decision whether you still want to be with me or not.”

“I already know everything about you that I need to know”, Genis says, full of conviction.

“It’s complicated. Please, let me tell you so you might decide.”

She sees how Genis wants to nod, doesn’t dare, and frowns. “Ok.”

Hope blossoms again in him and she is afraid. There's the weight of all that had happened pressing down on her, and she knows she needs to tell him now. It can't wait, or she will never tell him, and then someone else will.

“I’m sure you remember Zemo,” she begins, and Genis interrupts her.

“I know that,” he says. “I didn’t find out intentionally, it’s just that cosmic awareness can be indiscrete. But he had just saved your life? This happens.”

“It wasn’t just that. After you were trapped in the Darkforce Dimension, I slept with Zemo again.” There is no softening the blow, and she feels it would be unworthy of her to couch the whole thing in explanations and excuses and justifications. “Not just once, but I was together with him for three months.”

Genis looks neither shocked nor disgusted, merely puzzled. “Why would you do that?”

“I needed to make sure... that he'd believed I'm his, loyal to him, supportive and at the same time that he'd want to share his plans with me. And that’s why I had slept with him before, and I needed to build on it,” Melissa says. She swallows, suddenly feeling her own eyes grow moist and her chest pulling tight. She sees that Genis’s confusion doesn’t lessen, so she takes a deep breath.

“Back when I was Mimi, and even before that, I’d always have a guy. If I was in a group, I’d stick to a man, seeking a protector, seeking to belong… And I knew no other way than to reward his support with my body. I eventually grew out of it when I joined the Thunderbolts. I guess I have to thank Abe and Clint for helping me to realise what I have been doing and for genuinely caring for me without taking advantage of me.” She swallows. “Zemo knew about that. And I had just broken up with Abe when he took me to the tesseract. So, he decided to use this and make me grateful to him.” Her throat is so tight it aches. “And I let him think he succeeded.”

Memories come then, unbidden, kissing Zemo, his hands on her, and she cannot bear to feel someone else so close and gets up, sits down on the floor, folding herself up against between the low table and the sofa, her arms around her knees. Genis watches her, half confused and concerned.

“He got to have me and took me into his confidence.”

Genis doesn't say anything for a while. Finally, he comes up with a question. “I still don’t see how that makes you the bad person?”

“That’s how people see it,” she says, her voice bitter, “when you are a girl and all alone and depend on men to protect you. It’s never the guys who are looked down on. And it meant that he thought I wasn't any danger to him, that he had me and could control me. So, I slept with him, and let him think I was his plaything.” She hides her face against her knees. “There was no other way. That was the opening he gave me. H- Zemo had told us about something called the Wellspring. It was incredibly powerful, and in the wrong hands... the usual thing. And with the two Moonstones, he could destroy it.”

“But since it was him, you couldn't trust him,” Genis guesses.

“No, I had to have a way to make sure he'd tell me things, and I needed to be in a place where I'd be able to stop him, if he decided he needs to save the world from itself by taking over it,” she continues. “And then, when he did decide he needed to save the world by taking over it, I broke the Moonstones. Because he's an idiot, and didn't realize I can reach the right frequency with my voice.”

She waits for his answer for quite a while. Finally, with a grunt of effort, Genis reaches down and she feels his hand stroke her hair. “You did a good thing,” he says with conviction. “He was going to do something stupid with that kind of power, and you stopped him.”

There are tears in her eyes. Of relief, of guilt, of that mixed cocktail of emotions that made her scream in her sleep for months when she dreamed of Zemo lying down beside her. For a moment, Genis just keeps stroking her hair, and eventually, she gets up on the couch again, next to him again.

“Don't you care how messed up it all is?” she asks, carefully resting her head against his shoulder, when he does not shy from her.

“I'm... kind of the last person who'd raise objections to why and with whom other people have sex, seeing that I mostly slept with others to… make whatever was bothering me right then shut up. You’re the first person I was with not because I feared being alone with the mess in my head, but because I love you,” he says. “I care that you're upset about it, and I'd rather there was a way that wouldn't have involved you going through with him thinking he’s owning you, but it really isn’t my place to judge you there?” He makes a frustrated noise, trying to wrap his arms around her and she helps by turning around to face him again and resting her head against his chest. He manages to somewhat shakily pat her back.

"I love you--and... um- See, Earth, and Kree, and a bunch of others seem to think that means that you're my property, but that sounds kind of creepy, right? Just because I feel something, it doesn't mean you are supposed to feel the same or that you can't sleep with someone else--er... I mean, I'd really prefer if you didn't have to do it with someone you don't like, though?"

Melissa can’t help it. She starts to cry. Silently, because her voice is a weapon, and she tries to hide it by burying her face in his shirt.

“Did I say something wrong?” Genis asks, worried.

She shakes her head and managed a choked, “No, not at all. I love you.”


	17. Day 4, Part 5: chasing rainbows all my days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is taken from Iron Maiden's "Ghost of the Navigator".

Franklin sometimes wonders about adults. Really, you can't leave some people alone for a while, because they will end up being silly and one really cannot have that. So, he marches into the room where Songbird and Genis-vell are being mushy.

They don't even notice him, because Melissa is whispering something to Genis, and apparently this is the most important thing for both of them right now.

Well, okay, they both look like they've been crying, which is sort of an excuse, because being sad sucks.

“Hey, you're both going to miss something awesome, if you don't stop being mushy right now,” he says, as he sits down next to Genis, and grabs some rice crisps.

Songbird practically jumps, before hastily sitting up straight. That is followed by two sets of whats, hows and so on. And blushing.

“I've seen adults kiss, and cuddle, you know,” Franklin informs them. “My parents do it all the time. And don’t get me started on Uncle Johnny. Also, I’m going away in a moment, as soon as the cool thing has happened, but you should watch it.”

Genis and Melissa exchange looks, and seem to come to the conclusion that there is no point in quarrelling with Franklin. Which is quite sensible of them, because if they had intended to fight, he should have come earlier, and he didn't think he'd have to.

On the TV, the next band is announced by the bearded lady. She clearly is quite enthusiastic about them.

Melissa and Genis seem rather puzzled, because it's not one of the big name bands, but that's about to change. Not because of the guitarists, or because of the frontman, though they are good enough. No, the actual big moment is when Dante Peruz activates the powers given to him by the Terrigen Mists and the latent Inhuman gene.

The flames rise gradually at first, as the music builds up, before enveloping the drummer in full might, and only the die down when the song ends.

“Wow. Most metal drummer ever,” Melissa comments. Genis looks sort of confused.

The parts of the audience that are into metal go wild. Some parts that normally aren’t also do.

Franklin then turns to look at Melissa and Genis, and asks something he probably should have thought of asking earlier. “Are you okay?”

Melissa blinks and instinctively reaches up to her face, while Genis seems to think deeply about the answer. 

“Yes,” he says. “I'm fine.” He sounds almost puzzled.

 

* * *

 

Although Franklin is as good as his promise and did leave a short while later, neither Melissa nor Genis feel like breaking the silence. At this point in time, there is nothing more for them to say—they can simply be together. Eventually though, the emotional and physical upheaval of the evening begins to tell on Genis and a few songs later, he is asleep on Melissa’s lap.

Which leaves her in a rather awkward position, since she can’t not move him without waking him, which she wants to avoid. He needs rest. Still, she is barely feeling her legs by the point when Mr. Fantastic apparently entirely accidentally – ‘yeah, right, like you don’t have every room in this building bugged worse than a termite mound’ – happens by.

He takes some more readings, and then transfers the sleeping man back to the bed. Without waking him.

Melissa has to admit she is probably unfair to consider him unfeeling, because he handles Genis as carefully as she would have expected him to be with his own child. He also helps her up and steadies her when her legs give way at first.

“If you like, I could give you a lift home in the Fantasticar?” Reed Richards offers.

Melissa hesitates. “I’d rather stay with Genis, if you don’t mind. I can sleep on the couch.” She blushes, wondering what he will think of her, but he looks inquisitive, not judgemental.

“Just how much did you sleep last night?”

“Enough?” she offers, because eight hours straight should be exactly that. Her body doesn’t seem to agree though. Her knees still feel quite shaky.

For a moment it looks like Reed is going to put his hands on her shoulders, but he stops himself. “You look quite exhausted, young woman. You should sleep in a bed, not on the couch listening for every sound he might make. He will be fine. Sue and I are here and we will know if anything is wrong. Even Franklin is watching out for him. If you wish to help, you need to take care of yourself, too.”

He is right, of course. “Thank you very much. It’s very nice of you to offer me a ride home.” She looks at Genis for a moment, but he is still fast asleep. ‘He’s not a baby. He doesn’t need you around every moment’, she chides herself. Yet, she cannot bring herself to really leave, even with Reed hovering over her.

Then, she catches a faint golden shimmer in the corner of her eyes. When she turns her head, there is nothing there, but for a moment, she could have sworn there was a tall blond man by Genis’s bed, smiling at her.

She remembers that both Genis and Carol had said that they had seen Captain Marvel in their dreams and she wonders if she was dreaming on her feet, too. It distracts her enough that she allows Mr. Fantastic to lead her from the room. 

 

* * *

 

Genis dreams of walking. He isn't entirely sure where he is headed, only that he can't turn back—but that is not new. It doesn't feel like before though—not because the path had suddenly become less winding, or less rocky.

But he is walking, instead of running away from whatever is behind him, and there is someone beside him. He stops as soon as he realizes this and looks to his right.

Mar-vell is beside him.

“Are you... really here?” he asks, reaching out. His hand hovers uncertainly, as he tries to gather his courage to touch his father's shoulder and see if it's solid. Mar-vell does not hesitate, and steps closer. He wraps his arms around Genis, and Genis leans into the embrace.

“I'm here,” Mar-vell says.

There is so much he wants to ask, and so much he wants to say, too much to really fit into one conversation, but at least now he can try finding something to start with.

“Why?” he finally asks. He hopes it doesn't sound like he's accusing his father, though he desperately wishes he could have been there earlier.

“My uncle tried to make me the vessel of the Phoenix,” Mar-vell says. He sounds... well, not like a paragon of heroicness, but rather like someone who is very annoyed with their uncle. “It didn't work out as he planned, but I was alive for a period of time. I sensed you, and even when I died again, I couldn't let go anymore.”

Genis breathes out, and rests his forehead against Mar-vell's shoulder. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” his father replies. “That I've met you means more to me than I can say.”


	18. Day 5, Part 1: And when your fears subside / And shadows still remain

At midday, Melissa watches the sky on the landing pad on top of the Baxter Building. The sun is hidden behind hazy clouds. Yesterday still lingers in her thoughts—the kiss, the words Rick Jones had sung, and what Genis has said. On the one hand, it makes perfect sense that aliens from space, who grew up in space, would have different values than someone from Earth.

On the other hand, she can't help but wonder, if this is not just another symptom.

Which is unfair. She knows that. And yet... if she doesn't take things like that into account- How different would it have been if she had put the puzzle together earlier?

Still, recriminations have never moved anything forward. Yet, they make her linger on the roof instead of going in.

“So, what's with the long face?” Carol asks, landing next to her. There is a flash as the molecules of her costume rearrange themselves into regular clothes.

“Just... actually, could I ask you something? About being a superhero and a woman?” she replies. They are probably going to interact at least some in the future, and Carol Danvers is an outspoken feminist of the “why the fuck do you make a fuss about my sex-life” sort. And, in all likelihood, some “well-meaning” acquaintance of Melissa's might take it upon themselves to remind her about Zemo, while leaving out crucial details. If they haven’t already.

“Sure, shoot,” Carol replies, giving her an interested look.

Melissa doesn't start talking right away. It wasn’t easy to talk about it with Genis, and she has known Carol for only a few days. Eventually, she gathers her courage and outlines the whole thing—why she did it, what she did...

“I... talked with Genis about it, and he doesn't care,” she says. “But he's about the only one. Everyone else seems to think it was... I’m a slut who sleeps with anyone if it gains her something. Even with the man who murdered her boyfriend.”

“That's a rather common assumption if you're a woman and happen to sleep with someone without being married to them,” Carol says drily. “That way of dealing with someone would not be my choice. But Natasha Romanoff would—that's one of the many, many things that made her such a dangerous operative.” She frowns. “The best advice I can give to you—if you're worried about some journalist digging this up and deciding to have a go at you—write down what you want to say. Prepare a statement.”

“But... um... what should I say?” Melissa asks. She is starting to feel slightly better—being compared to the Black Widow is rather flattering, isn't it?

“Well, if I were making it, I'd point out that maybe instead of assuming you did that because of your past, they might want to examine why Zemo jumped at it—do they actually think that a—how old is he now—sixty?--man of his age sleeping with a twenty-something because he knows she is vulnerable to a certain pattern of abusive relationship and he intends to exploit that, is less reprehensible than you gritting your teeth and doing what's necessary to save the world?” Carol replies.

Melissa frowns. “That does sound rather sick. I knew what I was doing, but he didn’t realize that I did. He really thought that this was a means of controlling me.”

“He tried to use you,” Carol affirms categorically. “And using another person is bad. Especially when you know that other person has been influenced to make certain choices before.”

Melissa bites her lip. It... definitely was sick. It makes her think of the men before Zemo. When she thought she owed it to them. “He tried. But he didn’t, because I no longer was the same person I was when he pulled me out of that forest. I just—isn’t there a way to make it clear that yes, he was trying to use what he saw as my weakness against me, but not make me look like a poor little broken, helpless waif, whose strength will not be respected?”

“Probably not to everyone. It is a disservice to every survivor that we expect victims to stay victims,” Carol says with a grimace. “And if we overcome it, we’re not told ‘good job’ or ‘I’m proud of you’ or anything we should be told. We’re told that means our trauma wasn’t real. And what does it say about the people who want victims to suffer forever?”

That makes a frightening amount of sense. “So, either I’m a slut or I’m a broken toy.” Melissa shivers. But at the same time, she feels herself get angry. “Maybe I should just stop giving a fuck about what people think of me. And be happy that I met people who love me for being me and do not judge me like that.”

“That’s probably the best attitude you can have,” Carol says and puts her hand on Melissa’s shoulder. “It might be hard at first, but you already managed to get this far. So, in case anyone forgot to tell you that—good job. I’m proud of you.”

Melissa smiles, a little shakily. “Thank you. For telling me this and not…”

Carol smiles back. “If you ever need help with things like that, feel free to ask me. Or if you need a hug—do you want me to hug you?”

That comes as a surprise. Melissa blinks. “You would? I… I’m…” Not one of the good guys, not really, is what she doesn’t say, but she feels her eyes overflow.

“I would,” Carol says and pulls her into a hug. She’s quite a bit taller than Melissa, but not so tall as to make it awkward. “It’s okay, kid.”

Which brings back the first time someone hugged her who wanted nothing from her, only to help and she feels a sob rising in her throat. “I think I’m going to cry”, she whispers, trying not to sound too apologetic. Not just because of their conversation and the relief of getting support instead of condemnation, but also because it brings back Clint, and the last time they parted and the aching feeling of having lost one of her few real friends.

Carol pats her back and leads her towards a corner of the roof. There is a bench on which they can both sit down, while Melissa tries to calm down. Carol holds her and murmurs “It’s okay.” a few times.

“I miss Clint,” she eventually manages to say. “We fell out and-“ Except that’s not the right moment to say that because she starts crying again. 

 

* * *

 

 

Carol thinks about a lot of things as she holds Melissa and waits for her to calm down. She remembers the time when she gave up on being a super hero, when she thought there was nothing to salvage there. Then she thinks of Jessica Jones and of how she had clawed her way away from being the one whom Kilgrave mind-controlled. They have chosen a life that offers many opportunities to acquire scars, but it seems like Melissa’s go much further back than her decision to don a colourful costume.

She also thinks that Clint Barton has many talents and among them is mutating into a frustrating creature that ought to be placed in front of a blackboard like that obnoxious cartoon character. She’s not yet sure what he should be writing, but in this case, it wouldn’t be up to her.

“Do you want to talk about this?” she asks.

“I’m not allowed.” Melissa wipes her eyes, but they keep spilling. “It’s all secrets. Just…”

“It’s fine,” Carol says. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Melissa shakes her head. “It’s not that. It’s… related to SHIELD business. He doesn’t have the whole picture, but I thought it wouldn’t matter. That he’d trust me.”

Sounds like Clint. Carol shakes her head. “He’s very quick to jump to conclusions, I know.” After a moment of hesitation, she offers the girl a handkerchief. “He will get around. Sometimes he’ll need a bit of a kick first, but he will come around.” And she intends to do some kicking, given the opportunity. Definitely.

“Thank you,” Melissa says and makes another attempt at wiping her eyes. This time it looks like it might take.

Carol keeps her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Just how much sleep did you get last night? And eat anything?” Somehow, she keeps falling into the patterns she learned from her mother when dealing with Melissa and her determination to face everything with no sign of weakness. Might be because she feels a bit reminded of herself.

Melissa gives her a wide-eyed look and blushes. Then, she looks at her hands for a moment. “I had breakfast today. A proper one, not just coffee.” She smiles, and makes an observation that she probably wouldn’t have voiced aloud if she had been less rattled. “Abe said you were nice. I… I was wrong to doubt him.”

“That's... Well, I'm glad to hear that—he had all the reasons to resent me for what I was supposed to represent,” Carol says. “Do you know how he's doing?”

For a moment, Melissa wants to say something bland and evasive, then she decides to tell Carol the truth, as far as it is hers to tell. “We are still writing to each other. He’s fine. He asked me how you are.”

“Thank him from me and tell him I'm fine, too,” Carol says and grins.

There’s something else she needs to tell Carol: “I remembered something now. I think I saw Captain Marvel. I mean, Genis’s father. Yesterday evening, when Genis fell asleep. Just for a moment.”

That isn’t surprising. That he was here, Carol amends, not that Melissa could see him. “He's... coming back. In the from the dead sense. That's why he appears at all. And apparently he becomes visible to more people than just me.”

“But why me?”

Not being Wanda or Dr Strange, Carol can only guess. “You said that Genis shared cosmic awareness with you for a moment? Maybe because of his? Or maybe because he wanted you to see him.”

Melissa frowns. “Possible. I… I didn’t want to leave Genis alone, but Mr. Fantastic insisted I go home. And then I saw him.”

“I’ll ask him.”

Melissa nodded and then said, “I'll tell Genis—he should know.”

Carol shakes her head. “I think Mar-Vell will want to tell him that himself.”

Melissa agrees and blows her nose. She gets up and they start walking towards the elevator down.


	19. Day 5, Part 2: All my windows, still are broken / But I'm standing on my feet

There are things Una has discovered about humans. And mostly it's that they are thoroughly unreasonable. She just wants to find out if someone would ask a question for her on that Facebook-thing. Atlas is still her first choice, but the stupid platform only lets one send messages, if one is registered on it. Which Una was not planning on doing, and anyway, it likely can be tracked. Songbird doesn’t seem to check her messages anymore. That left Techno and he seemed to be something of an enigma.

So what if the people she wants to ask are the kind of people who usually fight alien invasions? She might be tall and have long hair, but there's no way one could mistake her for Kree one-woman-armies, such as Tanalth the Pursuer or Hala the Accuser.

And has she not underlined and stressed that she absolutely does not want to meet, let alone try to fight the new Captain Marvel? The woman probably ought to be counted into the ranks of Kree one-woman-armies, anyway. Even if Una had still any intentions of avenging her father, she wouldn't have stood a chance.

“Say, how does that work?” one of the guards asks her. “Is the part behind the dash your surname? Or do you only have one name?” Well, at least she is looking into her face, which is a nice change from all the other guards and even most of the aliens, who keep talking with her chest. She might reconsider her fashion choices, now that she does not have her powers anymore.

“Yes,” she says, striving for polite. Don’t those humans know anything? “At least with all the families worth mentioning, the first part is your personal name, the other indicates your lineage.”

“So you are related to Yon-Rogg? The guy who went after Captain Marvel?”

There’s no denying, is there? Not that she looks anything like her sire, fortunately. “He was my father.”

The woman is good at screening her feelings, but Una does notice the short raising of her eyebrows. Surprise. The guard covers it, by adding: “But you are blue?”

“Well, my mother was blue,” Una answers automatically. “Despite certain prejudices, pink isn’t always dominant.” Seeing how the woman clams up, asking her about her father is likely going to be futile. She better gets back to her research…

It’s not even difficult to find. Her father managed to come back from the dead, proceeded with his idiotic vendetta, tried to blow up this New York City, and got himself arrested.

Really. He hadn't even managed to get dying properly. 

 

* * *

 

 

Melissa shows up around lunchtime with a tray containing two bowls of soup. Her eyes are slightly puffy and red-rimmed, so once she puts down the tray and comes close enough, Genis tries to pull her into a hug. It’s clumsy, and nearly ends up overbalancing them both.

“Are you okay?” he asks, once they’re settled on his bed.

“I’m fine,” Melissa says, as she carefully cuddles closer. “Just… a bit overwhelmed, I guess. But it’s all good now.”

Genis doesn’t question that. He just waits a little longer to see if she will maybe reconsider.

“I love you,” she says softly after a moment, burying her face in his shoulder.

“I love you, too,” Genis says and kisses her head.

Melissa turns her head slightly, so she can look up at him and smiles. “You’re very good at hugging. Did I tell you that?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Genis says. “Thank you?”

Melissa leans up and kisses him then, before curling up next to him again. They spend a few moments cuddling, until Melissa reminds him he needs to eat something. He notes that getting from bed to the sofa and the small table is much less exhausting the before. He is rather relieved because needing help with a spoon is horribly embarrassing. They eat in silence, and he doesn't really mind that at all. It doesn't feel like he needs to fill the silence with anything.

Then Melissa gives him a conspiratorial look and says, “Don't tell anyone, but I actually liked some of the songs Rick Jones sang.”

Genis gives her a confused look, before nodding. “Why? Why don’t you want me to tell anyone? Not that I would, but I don’t understand.”

“It’s nothing, I’m just being silly.” Melissa smiles at him, and he smiles back. “But this sort music is usually liked by older people, and if someone my age likes it, they are very much not cool.”

At least, this is a word he does understand beyond its obvious meaning, so he nods. “I won’t tell anybody,” he promises earnestly.

She grins at him and puts her arms around him. “Thank you.”

He grins back, carefully pulling her closer. “Don’t mention it.”

And yet, at the back of his head there is something nagging at him to pay attention. The little innocuous bit of small talk brings it back, and he finally grasps what it is and carefully extricates himself from her embrace again.

“I think I should talk to Rick... Do you think he will want to?” Genis asks, placing his hands on the table and wincing slightly. His body is still not entirely convinced it needs to work together, obviously.

He looks at his wrists. The pale lines where the negabands used to be are still there, though barely visible if you don't know they're there. Melissa puts her hand over his wrist, her expression concerned. “It's from wearing the negabands,” he explains. “They wouldn't come off.”

Melissa nods, but does not pull her hand away. Instead, she runs her fingers against his skin.

“Sort of like wearing a ring all the time?” she guesses. Then she adds in a firm voice, “As for Rick Jones—he'd better. Otherwise, he's a coward. It's one thing to apologize when the other person might not even see you, and a completely different to do so when they're there.”

That is not something he had considered—that someone might not want to talk to him because they're afraid he won't forgive them instead of him being not good enough or having harmed them. And yet the idea isn't entirely alien—hasn't this been the reason why he did not want to talk to Rick after they were no longer bonded?

It simply had never occurred to him that anyone else might feel like that, especially towards him.

“That makes the two of us, then,” he says with a weak smile. “I-”

“Don't say you've been a nuisance, okay?” Melissa says putting a finger over his lips. “I've known actual nuisances: Cyclone ought to get a permanent gag. Really, you're mostly cute—and if anyone confuses that for being a nuisance than they clearly are very veeeeery confused.”

Genis can't help but start laughing at that. He's not sure if he believes her, but it helps anyway.

But Melissa isn’t finished yet. She kisses his cheek and adds, “And you’re a good friend. I know that from experience—you helped me when I needed someone to tell me I could trust myself and to let me vent—so, don’t ever think you’re anything but.”

“Can we try that conversation again at some point when I know how to reply to a compliment?” Genis asks with a crooked smile.

“Shh, before I take away your ‘saying cute things’ privileges again,” Melissa replies and pulls him into a hug again.

  

* * *

 

 

After Wyatt shows up to take Genis to his next therapy session – and he is improving rapidly physically, Melissa notices – she finally has time to look up her messages. Most are work related and she clicks them away, but there is also a text by Carol, who said that she is going to talk to Rick Jones today, and is there anything she should tell him?

*Genis wants to meet Rick Jones. And he better come, or no tearful song will excuse him,* she texts back, the memory of Genis crying still too raw to phrase it more delicately.

Fortunately, Carol’s answer pretty much agrees. Melissa sighs and get up. Her inbox is full to bursting and needs dealing with now that she had a moment.

And then she sees an e-mail that immediately makes her feel better. Habit is one of the fundamental forces of the universe, and so, this being Friday, she finds an answer from Abe. It seems that her last e-mail had worried them despite her efforts, since the beginning consists mostly of questions about her wellbeing. She feels overwhelmed for a moment, even if she should have expected Abe, Erik and Hallie to react this way.

In fact, it doesn’t consist of anything but Abe, Erik and Hallie doing their best to put mother hens to shame. There are a few short anecdotes scattered over it, like that Hallie nearly walked into a door while admiring the Winter Soldier as he left the gym, but nothing of real substance.

There is also quite a bit more photos attached to the e-mail. It seems that Jolt might truly be a lost cause and completely infected by the selfie virus. The first photo Erik, Abe and Hallie, the girl—or well, young woman by now, doing her best to embrace them both and grinning.

Then, there is a shot of Karla's back and Hallie. And of the Winter Soldier's metal arm, and Hallie. And then one of Norbert's hand. Then several more of Hallie and finally, there's a plate of pink soup. The last one is helpfully called “SoupPinkLikeYourHair”. It’s really hard to believe anybody eats stuff like that.

Melissa holds up a strand of her hair and inspects it. To her dismay, the soup is indeed about the same colour.

Then, she starts to compose an answer. It takes her a while, since she keeps rewriting everything over and over, uncertain just how much she should tell. In the end, she decides to explain at least a few things—that Genis is back and that his powers are now fixed. For now, she puts off going into detail. She isn’t sure if things like how much Zemo had either messed up with his plan to stop Genis’s powers or how much he had played them can wait.

Until they meet in person and until she has made up her mind what had been the case. Certainly, now that the idea is there, she sees how some things line up. And the others should know, just in case Zemo remembers about them again and tries to play on old loyalties.

By the time she has finished writing, her mind feels like it’s filled with wire wool. She probably ought to check by the office, even though she is on unpaid emergency leave. Except that is too much effort. After a little struggle with her better self, she curls up on the couch under Genis’s blanket and falls asleep.


	20. Day 5, Part 3: Not in shadows / Bright a little

“Do Kree have more teeth than humans?” Valeria asks. It is quite interesting to observe how her mind sometimes leaps from subject to subject—and it seems she had made the jumped from the latest news from the current Captain Marvel about both Titan and her predecessor to Kree in general.

“That's an interesting question, dear,” Reed replies, as he examines the insides of a Skrull transplanetary communicator. “What lead you to forming such a hypothesis?”

“They tend to have a larger and squarer mandible than a human,” Valeria answers. Then after a moment, she scrunches her nose. “Actually, I will look for the answer myself. It should be easy enough to find it.”

She slides down the chair and marches away purposefully, passing Sue along the way. Reed's wife looks at their daughter for a moment, before handing him a mug of hot coffee. Reed takes an appreciative sip.

The door hisses close.

“I did notice that Genis didn’t ask to contact anyone on Titan. Or anyone else, except for Rick Jones, for that matter,” Sue says.

Reed studies her thoughtfully, “And you think this means that Captain Marvel was right with her warnings.”

Sue nods slowly. “It’s good to know that his family is alive if he asks, but I agree with her we should not volunteer this information to him.”

“Nonetheless, I think that withholding the news from Mentor is not the best long-term strategy,” Reed says, placing the communicator on the table.

Sue sits down opposite to him. “It's not this. It's not the compassionate thing to do, from their perspective. And at the same time, it seems like it really is best if they do not interfere until Genis can make the decision to meet with them on his own.”

“There's also the other matter that Captain Marvel told us about,” Reed adds. “That Mar-Vell is coming back to life.”

“Who also did not ask to inform anyone on Titan,” Sue replies. Then, she sighs. “Family disputes can turn out so very ugly. I wish there was more we could do—but the harm seems to have already been done. We're here to watch the fallout.”

“So, we wait,” Reed says. He glances at one of the many screens—the one which displays the data from the monitor he still has Genis wear. “He is doing much better. If his convalescence progresses at the current pace, I will be able to give him a clean bill of health in a week.”

Sue purses her lips as she thinks. “You are switching the subject, Reed.”

“No,” Reed replies. “I'm merely informing you that we have a limited time-frame. We should not dance around the subject, and ask both Captain Marvel and Songbird if they have anything that might warrant keeping Genis-Vell under further observation. And to continue to withhold his powers.” He frowns. “I am actually surprised he has not thrown a tantrum yet. Most evolved beings would if someone committed such a gross violation of their bodily integrity.”

Sue wraps her arms around Reed and takes a very good look there is no child looking in. “And you suspect there are reasons for this other than passivity or being distracted.”

He nods. “If someone does not protest if an intrinsic part of their self is withheld it usually means they are either used to being deprived that way or it was more trouble than it was worth. Both reasons are troubling in different ways.”

This time, it is Sue who changes the subject. “I think we should invite Songbird to say for the time being.”

Reed does not reply, his attention drawn by the sudden spike on the readings from Genis's monitor. They are within acceptable parameters—likely a sign that the young man did something rash, but not dangerous.

“Should we check on him?” Sue asks.

“I believe Wyatt can handle the situation,” Reed replies.

  

* * *

 

 

“Ow,” Genis says. It's not the most intelligent thing he can say, but it's hard to be expressive when one is lying on a mat, because one is an impatient idiot, who can't follow instructions. Except, he is feeling better, and walking isn't all that complicated.

Slowly, he lifts himself on his elbows and finds Wyatt in front him, ready to help him up. He feels his cheeks burn, but he lets himself be helped to his feet. It's not like he didn't just find out that he should listen to what he's told.

“You don't need to rush,” Wyatt says. “You're already recovering very quickly.”

“Sorry,” Genis says. “I don't-”

“How many teeth do Kree have?” a high voice asks imperiously somewhere at the level of Genis's knees. He and Wyatt both look towards the door, and see a little girl study him.

“Er... Depends if somebody knocked out some?” he ventures after a moment.

“Do they have more than a human?” the girl asks, and adds, “Assuming that the Kree in question is typical, and has all the teeth they are going to have.”

“I... don't know,” Genis says. “How many teeth do you humans have?”

“Usually a total of 32,” the girl replies. “You could count yours. Although, if Eternals or Kree have wisdom teeth, you might not yet have all.”

Genis finds himself actually running his tongue over his teeth before he stops. “You are Valeria Richards, right?”

“Yes?” The girl eyes him curiously.

“How old are you?”

“Three years old, as of this November. I am smart.”

Genis shivers. Three years? When he… lost himself, this girl had been a baby. It’s not as bad as it could have been, but it has still been very long. Not in his memory, that’s all timeless darkness, but in the world around him. So much could have changed…

“Is my mother still alive?”

Valeria Richards reply is calm and matter-of-fact, “Yes.” She sighs heavily. “I'll have to ask Noh-varr about teeth, won't I? And he's from another dimension, and has cockroach DNA.”

She turns around and leaves, like a tiny queen, who'd just announced an execution.

  

* * *

 

 

He finds Melissa asleep in the guestroom. She's curled up on the couch, one hand underneath her cheek, the other clutching the blanket. Genis knows that he should be reasonable and lie down too, but he still does the thing that will make his back ache, and probably undo his progress towards fitness to some degree.

He sits down on the floor next to her and presses his forehead against the couch. His back is protesting, but he doesn't care for the moment. He needs to be near her, but he doesn't want to wake her up, so he doesn't dare to actually touch her.

He doesn't want to think about how his mouth got dry, and how his stomach felt like ice, when that question fell from his mouth. He just wants to listen to Melissa breathe and not think about anything else.

He isn't sure how much time has passed when he hears Melissa stir, and that suddenly makes him realize that what he is doing. Slowly, painfully, he sits straight again, because if she wakes up and sees him like that she will be worried.

Her eyelids flutter slightly and she makes a sound like a sleepy cat. He carefully brushes his fingers against her cheek. She murmurs something softly in her sleep.

“I'm sorry for being so much trouble,” he whispers.

Melissa opens her eyes.

“Hi,” she says with a sleepy smile, and reaches out to run her fingers over his cheek. The next apology dies in Genis's throat before he can start to say it. By, then, what he had said obviously registers in her brain and she sits up, giving him a worried look. “What happened?”

But even thinking about what he could say, even trying to find a convincing lie is too much. All he can think of to say is “It's been three years.”

“I'm sorry-” she starts to say almost immediately, and he cuts her off, because he didn't mean to sound like he's angry or upset, or disappointed. Like he is blaming her because it was so long. She is here, and that matters.

“I didn't-” and then words fail him, because he isn't sure what he meant.

Melissa gets down from the couch and kneels next to him. She cups his face in her hands, and while he still isn't sure what he could say, he at least knows that he can hug her and that's enough for now. He wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her shoulder. She pulls him close and allows him to hold on until he stops shaking.

“Thank you,” he says, when he's sure he will get a sound of his throat. “And I'm sorry for waking you up—I didn't want to, you shouldn't have to nanny me like a little child all the time-”

“It's been three years that you've been gone,” Melissa says gently. “It's not unreasonable or selfish of you to be upset.”

“I'm not...” He swallows and licks his lips. “I- remember exactly what happened now. I didn't know if there was a way to undo it before it would be too late—I'm not upset because it took three years, it's just...” He stops speaking for a moment, and then he blurts out something that surprises him completely: “I don't want to go to Titan.”

“Then you won't,” Melissa says.

She doesn't ask him why, and he feels so relieved that she just accepts what he says. He's... He's afraid of trying to think why he'd say that, afraid that looking will just make him fall apart like a statue of glass and ice.

So, he asks for something that he hopes will keep him from thinking about all the things that he doesn’t want to think about and keep him grounded in the here and now.

“Can you hold me now, please?”

“It’s okay now,” Melissa says as she pulls him back into her arms. “It’s okay.”


	21. Day 5, Part 4: And in a moment the memories are all that remain / And all the wounds are reopening again

After the concert, Rick Jones knows that somebody would come for him. His more immature fantasies involve Captain Marvel (the female one) in a little black dress, with a champagne bottle under her arm… Of course, those usually are derailed by Marlo hulking out and interfering, so he squashes them immediately.

The less immature and scarier ones involve someone super powered – usually their face was in shadow –beating him up. And he can’t shake the feeling that this is what he deserves.

He does not really expect Captain Marvel to arrive in civilian clothing (jeans, sadly) and just explain that she needs to talk to him.

And he sure as hell did not expect her not to come alone. First, it doesn’t register. He bids her come in and offers a coke and a seat, and sits down himself.

He listens to her explain that Genis saw the concert and wants to talk to him now. When she gets to the point where she is sort of daring him to try and chicken out, he isn’t listening anymore.

He read ghost stories in the orphanage, and liked inventing them to scare the younger children, too. All of them involved some generic stock images. Cold draughts, flickering candles, moving curtains. Goosebumps. Feeling watched.

There is nothing of it. He feels warmth, like sunlight, despite the day being rainy and the blinds being closed. His skin raises no goose bumps, but he has to fight the impulse to smile for no reason at all. It is distracting, but not frightening. Until he looks up and sees Mar-Vell standing behind Carol, a hand on her shoulder and a smile on his face.

Next he knows, he is flat on his back, and two pairs of blue eyes are looking at him half worried and half amused.

“Please, tell me I am going crazy right now.” There is a squeaky note to his voice.

“Not crazier than usual”, Carol Danvers says drily. “I guess we should have expected that you might be able to see him.”

Rick is trying to prop himself up on his elbows and gives up. “So, what is it this time? Holidays from the realm of the dead?”

‘I should learn to keep my fucking mouth shut’, he thinks as he sees that special expression on Mar-Vell’s face, that seems to have been reserved for him. A sort of benevolent exasperation coupled with far too much understanding.

Then the woman fortunately has the decency to look away because Rick is transported back to a dim room that smells of sickness and death and all he can do is curl up and cry, supported by insubstantial hands.

  

* * *

 

 

Some wounds never heal. They just sort of scab over and are silent until they are poked. And then they flare. And if they are poked especially badly, they break open and are as fresh as on the first day. It’s only that the person bearing them can change and learn to deal better.

When Mar-Vell died, Rick was at the verge from boyhood to becoming a man, still enough of a child that the loss of his last father figure left him all raw and bleeding. He grew, he learned and lost and thought to have come to terms with the ultimate expression of mortality – death.

As he finds out now, that is only half the truth. He learned to live with the loss, yes. But now, confronted with the spirit of Mar-Vell, that scab broke open with a vengeance. It takes him several long minutes to calm down enough so he can sit up and feel embarrassed about Carol Danvers seeing him all red and puffy eyed.

During the entire time, Mar-Vell’s presence is undeniable, although he doesn’t say a thing, and Rick’s brain gives up the futile hope he is hallucinating. “Just how the fuck is this possible?” His voice is cracking.

“He can’t hear you”, the woman says.

“He heard me just fine before?” Rick frowns.

“I was talking to Mar-Vell.” She does exasperated just as fine as the Kree, Rick notes.

“You can see him?”

“I can see and hear him. I am part Kree, and my Kree part comes from Mar-Vell. I’m sure you heard the story somewhere.” No, she is better.

She holds out her hand to Rick and he lets her pull him up. “What we came here to tell you, is that Mar-Vell is coming back to life.” Apparently she is no longer interested in tiptoeing around the daisies or whatever. “But his body is not on Earth and when he gets pulled back to it, he will have to get here by mundane means.”

Rick waits to hear where this is going. By now he has her measure enough to know that saying he doesn’t own a space taxi is probably a bad idea.

“So, he will be absent for a while.” She mutters something under her breath, and guessing from the tone it is probably something ladies are not supposed to say. “And he wants you to look after Genis-Vell during that time.”

Rick looks up into Mar-Vell’s face. He sees trust there, and a desperate need. A lot of things Rick feels he does not deserve.

“Are you sure? That’s sort of like… putting Wolverine in charge of a kindergarten. Really. I’m not the right person for that. I made a mess. I made the mother of all messes. I was a jerk. I can’t do this. I can’t take care of anything, not even stupid fish in a tank. They’d be dead if not for Marlo.”

Clearly, they aren’t going to accept that argument. “Wolverine was Headmaster of a school. By all counts, he did pretty well.”


	22. Day 6, Part 1: I will let the memory heal / I will remember you with me on that field

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is taken from "War" by Poets of the Fall.

The first thing Rick sees when Sue Storm leads him into the guest room is Genis and Songbird (whom Sue had mentioned) playing Nurse Nightingale and Poor Sick Patient—the romantic edition (which the Invisible Woman did not think important enough to inform him of).

And today's episode of Nurse Songbird seems to be “My Alien Boyfriend is Trying to Teach Me Alien Card Games” going by the fact that there is a deck of cards on the table beside Genis’s bed. But apparently, that has taken a backseat in favour of trading adoring looks. Apparently, Songbird is vulnerable to Genis’s brand of ‘subtlety’.

They both look at him and Sue then. Genis just turns his head rather slowly and fails to hide a wince. Songbird looks up and her expression grows harder. In fact, she is giving him the kind of look that makes Rick happy he’s an orphan and has no mother to be disappointed in him.

“Uh... Hi?” he says and gives his best smile.

“Hi,” Genis replies, and finds something very interesting to look at on one of the cards. It’s shaping up to be a rather awkward conversation.

“I’m here to apologize,” he says, deciding that perhaps it’s best to tackle the difficult part right away. Besides, he’s not sure he can do the usual small talk of ‘you look well’ with someone who just recently came back to life, or the equivalent for indestructible energy beings. And it would be a lie, since Genis looks pale and drawn. Although, to be fair, he doesn’t look as terrible as Rick remembers he did at times.

“Melissa? Could you come with me for a moment?” Sue Richard says, and the young woman rises reluctantly. She kisses Genis’s cheek, and whispers something before nodding politely to Rick (and giving him another ‘do not fail’ look—she is good at those) and finally leaving along with the Invisible Woman.

“So, yeah,” Rick says and tries to express himself properly. He can do that fine in song, so he should be able to do it in prose, too. “I’m sorry. I should have treated you as your own person, shouldn't have seen you like an easy way to get ratings and I should have acted like an adult—I didn’t. I was a complete and total idiot. I don’t know if it helps at all, but I wanted you to know that.”

Genis finally seeks his eyes, and it’s the “give me a map to this thing called life” look, like he has absolutely no idea what to do with an apology. Had this been someone who is not part Kree and part Eternal, and who can throw buildings around, Rick might have suggested that he punches him. Except if Genis takes him up on the offer it will be tempting fate.

“It’s fine,” the young man eventually says.

“You don’t have to forgive people just because they say they are sorry,” Rick says on an impulse. “You can, if you want to, but you’re under no obligation. It’s your choice.”

“Because I’m actually any good with those?” Genis snorts.

“You’re about as good as anyone your age—young adult, I mean,” Rick replies, mentally kicking himself for managing to wander into one of the mine-fields. “Not that older people aren’t quite capable of making stupid decisions – just look at me. But what I meant is this—if someone hurts you, intentionally or not, it’s… well, you are the only person who can forgive them. They can’t force you, and you don’t have to do it as soon as they own up to a mistake. It’s something that will eventually come.”

“Rick,” Genis says, “I’m… I’m not angry, okay?” He pauses, and slides his hand over his face. “I mean, I am, but not about- Well, okay about that, too, but-“ He takes a deeper breath. “I can’t expect you to treat me like anything but a horrible disappointment, because that’s what I am—I can’t manage to do anything right without ending up in a horrible mess.”

Did he ever actually say things like that to Genis? Had he really been that cruel so often Genis internalized the sentiment? How could he have done this?

“Genis, listen to me. What you just said? That’s bull. If I ever told you that, no matter if in these words or in sentiments, then I deserve every beating Bruce gave me and will give me for the next five million years.”

Genis looks at him, all confused. “I don’t want you to get beaten up.”

“Figure of speech.” Rick waves it away, although he is rather glad of that sentiment. After all, even without using his powers, Genis probably could throw him right through the wall. “What I meant is, telling you that was beyond low of me. It was cruel and mean, and so horribly untrue.”

When Genis tries to protest, he waves him off. “Sure, you screwed up on occasion. So do I, so does everyone on this blasted planet, including your dad. We aren’t perfect. Learning from that is hard, sure, and unpleasant, but it’s what we do.”

“And if I had done that, I wouldn’t have ended up in the Darkforce Dimension.”

And this is the point where Rick realizes he can spend the whole day talking, and he won’t be getting much further. So, he tells himself not to be stupid, and sits down next to Genis, so he can hug him. 

Genis is still at first—but then he hugs back, and it feels like Rick is holding a frightened child despite the size difference between them.

 “I just know the cliff’s notes summary of how that happened”, he says softly, and – after a moment’s hesitation, because this kind of thing doesn’t come naturally to him, he’s too used to be the junior in any relationship – strokes Genis’s hair. “And that really doesn’t sound like it was in any way your fault. I know it’s easy to say stop blaming yourself and hard to do. But I’ll help you, in any way I can.”

 “Rick,” Genis sighs. “I'm cosmically aware. I should be able to figure out how not to end up trapped, or-or...” he stops. “I'm sorry. I'm being difficult.”

 Rick shakes his head. “Not particularly. Hindsight is twenty twenty, cosmic or otherwise. Look forward?” He doesn’t feel even remotely confident giving advice like that. Even reading Marlo’s self-help book library – buying those and then ignoring them seems to be a female thing… - doesn’t really give you pointers on how to deal with someone hurt so deeply.

Genis seems to look for another protest, but then thinks better of it. After a few more heartbeats, he takes a deep breath and extricates himself from the embrace. His “Thank you” seems sincere, if insecure. He is clearly going over the conversation in his head. “Bruce beat you up?”

“On occasion.” Grateful for a different topic, Rick launches into a summary of Dr. Banner’s interactions with him, before turning to the new Hulk’s latest exploits.


	23. Day 6, Part 2: So open up your heart and just let it begin

“Would you like some coffee? Or maybe a coke?” Susan Richards asks Melissa, once they leave the room.

“Coffee, please,” Melissa answers, trying not to look at the door over her shoulder. Really, Genis is an adult and Rick Jones is about as dangerous as a... natural disaster, if one believes every superpowered criminal who had ever tried to take him hostage, if she remembers correctly.

Which is probably a good thing, in case anyone tries to take him and Genis hostage while she's away.

The Invisible Woman leads her to the kitchen and starts up that gleaming monster of a coffee machine that probably cost more than she had earned in all her criminal career, summed up. ‘And what’s that?’ a snarky voice in her brain says, ‘three dollars fifty cents, keep the change?’

“Cappuccino or espresso?”

“Cappuccino, please.”

She is handed a mug, white and nondescript, while her host takes another one and sits down opposite of her.

“So, do you know if Genis-Vell drinks milk?” The older woman asks her, completely out of the blue.

Melissa frowns. “I guess. I mean, he didn’t really eat much, and said he doesn’t need to, but if you put something in front of him he’d eat it. Why?”

“Mar-Vell avoided it. He even mentioned that the Kree do not breed dairy animals at all, so I guess they wouldn’t be able to metabolise it well. I am just trying to be on the safe side with whatever I prepare for him, since right now he has no powers that could allow him to ignore problems with his metabolism.”

The younger woman frowns. “I remember Dr. Chen Lu drinking soy latte. He did tell me most people in China cannot stomach cow’s milk”, she remembers. “The explanation was complicated, but I guess it’s better to be safe, Genis has enough problems right now.”

“He will have to adjust to only being in the here and now again,” Susan Richards says. “Among other things, I believe.”

Melissa bites her lip as she wonders if she should say more. Isn't it up to Genis? But then, she doesn't think he will ask for help. It's something that one has to learn—that people will help, that if you hide that you are hurt others will not notice...

“A lot more things,” she says. “He's trying his best, but there are just some things that you can't do on your own.”

“We are here to help”, Susan Richards says with a reassuring smile. “But having you here for the time being would likely help even more. He knows you and he trusts you, Ms. Gold.”

“Call me Melissa, please. Mrs. Gold was my mother.” Melissa swallows hard. It’s still not easy to think of her without feeling a shadow of that confused jumble of emotions she went through with her mother’s sudden and short lived return.

“Then you have to call me Susan. Or Sue.” Sue reaches over the table, offering her hand as she had done with Genis, and Melissa takes it. She feels herself blushing, because it’s not every day you get asked something like that. She isn’t used to people accepting her, still. Even if she has known the Thing since her Grappler days. “Thank you.”

Susan smiles. “We prepared a guestroom for you.”

Melissa blinks. Well, she can't say no, can she? It's a bit like when she got a call from Kitty Pryde about attending ‘Jewish Christmas’ with the Thing and her, and even Moonknight. She doesn't want to say no either, even if for a moment she wonders if maybe she should, because-

“Don't worry, Ben is away with some of the older kids,” Susan Richards says.

“Oh, um... would he have minded if I stayed?” she asks, more puzzled than worried. He didn't seem to have had a personal problem with her even when she was Screaming Mimi.

“No, I don't think so,” Susan Richards says. “He's just... well, Ben. He’d have blamed it on you if I found the fridge raided in the morning. And then I’d find crumbs in his bed.”

“Oh.” Now some things fall into place. “That’s why he always said he had to watch for me taking too many egg rolls. I don’t even like those.”

“No”, Sue shakes her head with a wry grin. “He just wanted them for himself.”

Reassured like that, Melissa smiles. “Thank you. It's very nice of you—I promise I won't make any trouble.”

Then, she remembers that the Baxter Building has to be regularly rebuilt, and wonders just what kind of trouble she'd have to cause to even register. The Invisible Woman smiles too and says, “I'm sure you won't. Let me show you to your room and then you’ll probably want to go home and pack some things?”

When Melissa nods, since in her costume she doesn’t have even a handbag, she’s offered another ride in the Fantasticar.

  

* * *

 

 

It's been twenty minutes, and Rick is still not done talking about the many creative ways Bruce Banner managed to wreak havoc during the three years Genis was gone. That Rick also ended up on the receiving end of the Hulk’s rampages, is only mentioned as an aside and even Genis realises that Rick doesn’t really want to talk about that, so he doesn’t ask. Not that there aren’t enough unpleasant things in the story, like the destruction of Manhattan.

“Rick,” he finally says, “I get it, okay? Compared to Bruce Banner I’m harmless.”

He's not really sure if that's what Rick meant but right now, he's ready to ask Rick about his sex life, if that means no more Bruce. Or maybe better not. No, on the second though, Bruce Banner is preferable.

Rick lifts his hands. “It’s ok. I babble. I’m sorry. I… this is just… I... It’s all my fault, after all. So, honestly, as screw-ups go, you are an amateur.”

Genis manages a weak grin. “That’s a bit of an overstatement.”

And then Genis notices a flash of red from the corner of his eye, and when he turns his head his father is there and Rick is immediately forgotten. Mar-Vell looks serious, and while Genis is pretty sure by now that his father's default look is serious, he also can guess there is something important he wants to say.

Besides him, Rick stops in midsentence and follows Genis’s line of sight. “Marv.” Clearly, Rick can see him, too, though for some reason he seems frustrated and doesn’t actually say anything.

“He can't hear me,” Mar-Vell says, nodding to Rick, which explains his frustration. Genis does not fail to notice that this seems to exasperate his father, like it's something he expected but would rather have been wrong about it. “How are you feeling?”

Genis wants to say okay, but that is not really true so he settles for a kind of half-smile and says, “Better than yesterday.”

Mar-Vell smiles at him and Genis suddenly doesn't feel like that is so very little. But he isn't sure if this is why his father is here.

“Did something happen?” Genis asks.

“Something has been happening for a while now, I just wasn't sure how long it will take,” his father replies, and then takes a deeper breath. Genis can't help but to wonder how does it even work when you're a ghost—is it something you do because it's a habit? He almost asks, but then Mar-Vell continues, “I'm coming back.”

Genis can only stare, trying to figure out if he heard it right. It's not really that clear a statement, and just because Genis wants it to mean something, it does not mean it does.

“Um... coming back as in..?” Genis asks, because... well, maybe it does mean what he hopes it means, and if it doesn't it's best to find out now.

“To life,” Mar-Vell clarifies. “That’s why I can show up so much now.”

He doesn't really think before acting—he wants to hug his father, so he simply gets out of bed, and that ends up with him stumbling because he does it too quickly. He manages not to fall face first, but still ends up on his knees, and when his father reaches out for him, he passes right through him.

Mar-Vell kneels down next to him looking at him worriedly, his hand stopping halfway to touching Genis. Bitterness and frustration mount and Genis pounds his fist against the floor. It hurts. It’s a distraction, so he almost hits again, before feeling Rick’s hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do that, ok?”

Genis nods and allows Rick to help him up and back to bed, and Genis wonders if he will manage not to embarrass himself at least once during a day.

Once he is back in bed, Mar-Vell sits down beside him and cups his cheek in his hand. The touch is insubstantial and warm, like sunlight.

“Please don’t hurt yourself.” Genis shrugs, which works a lot better by now and only hurts a little. Mar-Vell’s sad, guilty look hurts a lot more, so Genis forces a smile.

“I promise.”

His father nods and smiles back. Rick watches this with a strange mixture of emotions on his face, before he pulls the blanket straight and fluffs Genis’s pillow. He is about as red as Mar-Vell’s costume.

Once he is settled in again and Rick doesn’t look like the red nose of that reindeer anymore, Mar-Vell puts his hands on Genis's and if he hadn't suspected there is more before, he suspects it now.

“This isn't all, is it?” he asks.

“No, it’s not. I am not going to spontaneously incorporate where my spirit is. I will return to my revived body.” Before Genis can even ponder the implications of this, Mar-Vell adds quickly “But my body is in the Kree galaxy, because my uncle – I told you about him – took it there.”

Genis nods. It is far away but…

Mar-Vell continues. “Once I'm alive again, I will need to get to Earth by mundane means. I probably could fly back, but bad things tend to happen if I do, so I asked Carol to help me get here. She will have Mr Fantastic, and probably Tony Stark find some way of getting to me more or less at the time I will be alive again, so I should-”

Genis doesn't wait for him to finish as he blurts out, “I'm coming too. When they go to find you. I’m not staying here!”

“I should have guessed you will say that,” his father says with a smile. He leans forward, so that his forehead is touching Genis's. “If Mr. Fantastic says you are up to it, I will be glad if you come.” He looks at Rick, who has been watching the half-conversation with increasing twitchiness.

“I take you did find a space taxi?” Rick asks, and Genis wonders very hard how one person can fit so much embarrassing in one sentence. He wants to answer, when something else his father says registers in his brain.

“And just who is Carol?”

Apparently, ‘serious’ is not Mar-Vell’s only expression. There is also sheepish.


	24. Day 6, Part 3: Where the sun sets slowly with a golden crown and the leaves sing lullabies 'round vacant swings / Give me those wings

Having finally found Reed, Carol puts down Chewie's carrier on a table and gives the flerken an apologetic look. Even space monsters need their shots, after all. And it was convenient to drop in on the FF on the way back from the vet. Chewie gives her a deadly glare. Yes, it is absolutely terribly evil of her to keep her in there, but letting her out in here is asking for some sort of a disaster.

Reed settles some tools on the flat surface nearest to him—which appears to be a computer—and turns his head around, his neck twisting like a rubber band.

“Hello, Carol,” he says. Then, he glances at some device and adds, “And Mar-Vell?”

Mar-Vell arches his eyebrows.

“Yep, right next to me,” Carol answers.

“I thought so,” Reed answers. “Can he hear me?”

Mar-Vell nods.

“Yes, he can,” Carol says.

“Then I'd like to say that I'm really sorry that there was so little I could do for him,” Reed says. Mar-Vell shakes his head and Carol starts to open her mouth, but Reed held his hand up to stall her. “No, I understand, but I'd like to apologize nonetheless.”

And then something occurs to Carol.

“How did you know he's here?” she asks, and as she expected, Reed says something science-y which roughly translates to “The photons are acting funny.” Then, he adds, “The reading is much stronger than I anticipated.”

“That's because he's coming back to life,” Carol informs Reed.

Mr Fantastic takes this in his stride and smiles. “Well, that's good news then.”

“It would be if I could just appear here,” Mar-Vell grumbles. Carol is starting to get the hang of being a ghost-to-living translator, and relays the information.

“I see,” Reed says. “Where will he wake up, once he's alive again?”

“Somewhere in the Kree galaxy,” Carol says. “He hasn't been able to pin point it yet, but once he does, I can get a space ship and go get him. He just needs to stay out of sight, in case the Kree want to execute him or shoot him at whatever annoyed them this week.”

“It would be much easier if he could give us a precise location,” Reed replies. “I could probably arrange some method of transport-”

“I have a ship,” Carol answers, shaking her head. “But thank you. If you can help, I will take any.”

“I will also need a time-frame,” Reed Richards says. “When can we expect Mar-Vell to be alive again?”

Mar-Vell stands still, his expression focused. Then, his form flickers and his suit becomes the green and white one he had worn on Hala. “A week,” he says. “You have a week. And I can tell you where my body is.”

Carol and Reed both exchange looks, and then Mr Fantastic focuses on Chewie's carrier.

“Did you have a cat in there?” he asks, and Carol whirls around. She peers inside the carrier which is bereft of any flerkens.

“Damn,” she snaps, and runs out.

  

* * *

 

 

If there is one thing that did not change while Genis was gone, it's that there is always something going on Earth. Usually more than one something, and sometimes it’s a whole horde of somethings trampling one another, followed by an invasion from outer space and a Galactus who forgot Earth gives him indigestion.

Apparently, Earth’s super heroes went to war on each other, and then the Skrulls decided this was an opportunity not to miss. Except they had been infiltrating Earth long before and things got very confusing along the way. Like, some people who were supposedly dead having been Skrulls confusing. And Thanos invaded Earth again, and then the world ended except it sort of did not. Inhumans went public and Avengers have been multiplying, it seems. And are still doing so. And Rick is still complaining they will let _anyone_ in, but not him. Even if Genis knows for a fact that he doesn’t even want to be one.

At which point Rick stops recounting, because there's a fluffy ginger cat in the room. It looks around, before bounding up on the bed and curling up on Genis's lap, and that is when he realizes it's not a cat.

“Huh, where did you come from?” Rick says. “America's fluffiest monsters?”

The cat makes an offended sound, and Genis realizes he's several planets away from the right taxonomy.

Genis weighs the benefits of telling him it's not a cat versus ending up being wrong and sounding like an idiot. The flerken starts purring, and acting in a way that in no way suggests being able to eat an elephant and coming from an extinct species.

Maybe it _is_ a cat. Carefully, Genis scratches it under the chin, and absolutely nothing out of ordinary happens. The possibly-flerken, maybe-cat continues purring and looking smug.

The situation continues until the door hisses open and admits a human-shaped blonde tornado, and apparently the owner of the alleged flerken. She looks sort of familiar, like he'd seen her before, but can't place where or when.

“Chewie! There you are!” the tornado announces, kneeling next to his bed and ignoring everyone completely in favour of Chewie the Probably Flerken, who in turn continues looking smug. Then, the tornado looks up and gives Genis and Rick a 'oh, you're here' look and says, “Oh, hi.”

“Hi?” Genis says.

Chewie makes a very convincing cat sound. Genis and the tornado look down at it.

“I know it's a flerken,” the tornado says. “And she doesn't eat people unless they try to eat her first.”

“A what?” Rick asks, giving Chewie a doubtful look.

“A kind of space monster,” Genis explains. “It's...er... bigger on the inside.”

Rick eyes the flerken suspiciously and retreats further. Which is probably a smart move, because he's definitely the kind of person space monsters want to eat.

“I'm Carol Danvers, by the way,” the human tornado says.

Is she the Carol his father mentioned? She doesn't look like someone one ought to be embarrassed to know—Genis can tell, because he used to have a number of acquaintances he'd happily never ever hear of again in his life. But why would she look familiar?

“She's the newest Captain Marvel, former Ms Marvel,” Rick says helpfully. “And about as close as you can get to the pure essence of what your father finds attractive in women. Which is being loud and bossy, if you hadn't realized.”

Genis just sort of sits there in a daze, while he tries to reconcile what Rick described as his father’s type with his mother. It just sort of doesn’t want to fit into the same brain-categories, especially since his earliest implanted memories are of Elysius and Eros. He doesn’t really have trouble with accepting Mar-Vell as his father, but whenever he tries to put him in a father and mother situation with Elysius, the wires cross, and it goes back to Eros and Elysius.

Then the human tornado and the essence of what Genis's father finds attractive in women glares at Rick. It's quite the glare. Rick remains unconcerned, which doesn't surprise Genis at all. If he'd get flustered or frightened just because people glared at him, he wouldn't end up in nearly so much trouble.

And then Genis's brain finally puts the dots together—which is really embarrassing because Rick was almost holding him by his hand and helping him draw there—and realizes why his father was so embarrassed. 

“Do you-?” he starts to ask, thinks better and tries again, “Are you-?” No, that's probably not the right thing to ask.

Carol Danvers looks at him, closes her eyes, exhales and says, “Yes, I'm dating a ghost.”

Genis eyes her suspiciously. He'd met her as Ms Marvel once—she had had longer hair, he thinks. And worn a mask, which would explain why he has such- No. Wait, he remembers another time—one of the confused memories from the day when he'd been taken out of the Darkforce Dimension—she's glowing and the Star of Hala is on her chest.  She wraps him in light and she carries him like he is a child.

“You came for me.”

“Oh, you remember that?” she asks. “I thought you only woke up when you were out.”

“I... remember a few things,” Genis says. “It was cold.”

He looks at his hands—he'd balled them into fists, his knuckles turning white. He doesn't really want to think about it. And then, suddenly, there's a cat's—flerken's--paw on his nose. Genis probably goes slightly cross-eyed when it happens.

“Chewie,” Carol Danvers says sternly.

The flerken stands on her fours again and scuttles closer so she can cuddle to Genis's chest. She very clearly doesn't want to go away.

Carol crouches down and reaches for Chewie. “Come on, girl.”

The cat, however has other plans, demonstratively turning her back to her owner and purring loudly in a “I am completely happy here, don’t you dare move me” way. Nevertheless, the woman reaches for her wayward pet, when Genis finally finds his voice again.

“It’s ok. I don’t mind her.”

There’s an unspoken question in the woman’s eyes as she rises smoothly to her feet. ‘Do you mind me?’

He doesn’t really know. “I… I am not going to have a tantrum.” The words pop out and he wonders where they came from. Maybe it’s because he never knew his father when he was small, so it isn’t like he has any memories of him with his mother. Thinking about this involves thinking about things he doesn’t want to touch, so it is just easier to accept that Carol Danvers is now there. And helped save him.

And going by the way she is looking at him, she is worried, too. Finally, he manages something that probably counts as an intelligent sentence. “I don’t know what to think.”

Carol Danvers gives him a lopsided smile and shrugs. “You don't have to decide right away. Though, if you're going to decide you like my cat and can keep an eye on her when I'm not there, I wouldn't mind at all.”

“Did she eat the last person who did that?” Genis asks, and feels the flerken head-butt his hand.

“No,” Carol Danvers laughs. “She just seems to like the total of... hm... four people, counting you, in the whole universe, who are not me.”

Chewie swats at Genis's hand with her paw, and he thinks he's figured out what it is about. He starts scratching her throat and neck again, which seems to be the right thing to do, because the flerken stops trying to assault him.


	25. Day 6, Part 4: Give me back my innocence cos I wish to dream again / Like I never outgrew my old playground

Having unpacked in the guestroom, Melissa goes to find Genis. Not that it's hard—he's in his room, having apparently advanced in the world and become a cat-pillow. Carol is sitting next to his bed, and explaining the intricacies of being a cat-owner, it seems. Rick Jones is nowhere to be seen.

“-I went and bought some more cans of that brand,” Carol says. “And what does Chewie do? Ignores it, in favour of my hamburgers.”

The cat stretches and then starts squeezing under Genis's hand.

“Hi,” Genis says as soon as he looks up. She thinks he sounds relieved—not in a 'something terrible is happening' way, but rather 'help what do I do'. He points to the chair at the other side of the bed. “Rick had to leave for some press conference. Also, I think he fears Chewie.”

“Fears a cat?” Melissa wonders, as she sits down. The cat promptly relocates itself in such a way that makes hugging or kissing Genis impossible.

“Chewie,” Carol says sternly and tries to fish the cat out, which is apparently something the Air Force does not prepare people for.

“It's a space-monster that looks like a cat,” Genis says. The cat makes a very offended sound. “Um... I'm sorry, but you have tentacles. On the inside. That kind of makes it hard not to list you as a monster. Sorry.”

Melissa stares at them for a while. It's... really unlikely that they would actually agree to pull that kind of joke on her, especially given that they both seem a bit uncomfortable around each other.

“Huh, so, it looks this cute because it's good camouflage?” she guesses. The cat-monster gives her a calculating look and moves to the side ever so slightly, so now she can hug Genis.

“Chewie,” Carol says sternly.

“Mrow.” Chewie twists in a way only a creature that is either made of rubber, one of the Spider-People or a cat can achieve and starts licking itself under its leg.

“She's also apparently bigger on the inside,” Carol adds. “And let's just leave it at that, shall we?”

“She’s yours?”, she asks Carol, since that is what it looks like. Upon a slightly offended *mrowf*, the other woman, in the process of nodding, amends: “She would probably say that I am hers.”

Melissa giggles. Monster or not, that sounds like a cat. 

 

* * *

 

 

Abigail Brand is not easily impressed, and the fact that some idiot Kree actually thought she could get into the detention block certainly is not on the list of things that would take her breath away. If anything, it's just another thing to add to the list of what is not improving her mood—not that her mood is easy to improve, anyway.

What is it with Kree, anyway? The nutjob in the detention block thought he could take on the Avengers. And now, after everything about him has died down, the Supreme Intelligence wants him back. How does that make sense? Are they going to distil his stupidity and spray it on whoever they want to invade?

She gives the young Kree woman a measuring look and catalogues the details—attractive, blue and dressed in a way that makes her look more naked than actually being naked. The last part is atypical for Kree, though it could be a way of making her seem less threatening and get people to under-estimate her.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” she says. “I will ask you nicely to tell me why you tried to do that. Or you can be stupid and then I call Captain Marvel and lock up what is left afterwards.”

That earns her a quite good unimpressed look. It's nowhere near what, say, Emma Frost can produce, but it has potential. Abigail thinks it's a solid four on a scale of ten.

“That’s my father in there-” the Kree says, and Abigail slides her hand over her face.

There is usually one reason someone's child shows up, if their parents are caught, and Abigail has no patience for rescue attempts by people who have no clue. She doesn't have patience for people who have a clue either, but that is beside the point.

“Okay, I am in a very good mood, kid,” she says in a tone that indicates exactly the opposite. “And if you're here to avenge your father's capture, or regain your honour... Don't. Don't even think about trying. Believe me, Captain Marvel will just punch you into the nearest building, and I will spend the next week trying to convince the Supreme Intelligence that counts as suicide.”

“I don't intend to get close enough to Captain Marvel for her to punch me,” Una-Rogg replies. “And I'm definitely not going to provoke her. I've-” She falls silent, clearly reconsidering whatever she wants to say. Something incriminating, then. “I know how dangerous she is and that I don't stand a chance, and I honestly don't want to dig out whatever it is that it is between her and my father. I thought my father was dead. I told your people already why I came to Earth. I didn’t know he was here.”

Abigail gives her her own unimpressed look. “And now that you know, what do you want? Why did you try to sneak in?”

“I hadn't decided yet.” The Kree shrugs. “Possibly kick him. Or just find out why he left us to rot on Hala and never came back. But kicking him sounds like a good start.”

“Does everyone in the universe but I have daddy issues?” Abigail groans at the universe at large. 

 

* * *

 

 

Flerken or cat, the sound of it purring is soothing. After Carol Danvers relents and leaves the cat on Genis’s bed and excuses herself, Melissa braves Chewie’s displeasure and snuggles up to him on the bed. At some point, Genis notices he has an idiot grin on his face, while Melissa is watching him with the sort of look people usually reserve for babies doing something cute. Fussy babies. He almost laughs, but it might disturb the cat.

When Melissa notices that, she clearly decides to take advantage of his distraction. “So, just what was that between you and Carol? She looked quite uncomfortable.”

Genis considers telling her that it is none of her business and decides against it. The story is probably amazingly tame compared to the sort of things Melissa encountered in her life.

“My father and Carol are a couple now.”

The young woman does not seem surprised. “I guessed.”

“I don’t know how I feel about it.” Genis sighs. “I feel so stupid. I probably either should be happy for them or angry. But I’m just confused.”

Melissa leans against Genis’s shoulder. “When my mother left us, I was in denial. I didn’t believe she had wanted to go. I didn’t believe she was in jail. My mother had been the only person who seemed to care about me, and she couldn’t leave me, just couldn’t.”

Genis grits his teeth and puts his arm around her shoulder. He doesn’t need cosmic awareness to feel how much this hurt Melissa. “Why did she leave you? She was your mother.”

Melissa rests her head against him. “I can't really be sure, but I guess... you know how they say animals will gnaw off their paw if they're trapped? I think it was something like that.” She looks up. “It doesn't mean it didn't hurt me. But what I'm trying to say it's that there's no one valid way to feel about it, because there's always so many things influencing other things...”

“I guess there isn’t.” He somewhat clumsily strokes her head. His control over his movements is still not what it was before. “I never saw my father and my mother together, only in a few pictures.”

Chewie sits up and rubs her head against Melissa's arm, before settling between them.

“So, how is he? I mean, you now talked with him, right?” Melissa asks, curling up against him.

“Um... very serious,” Genis says feeling rather silly. That's definitely not the kind of thing one ought to think first about their father who was pretty much the biggest influence on one's life. Except that's the first thing he can think of. “And kind. I mean, I think he does actually like me. Er... not that I think you have bad taste because you like me, please tell me to shut up.”

“You're pretty likeable, really,” Melissa says instead and reaches up to brush her fingers against his cheek. “And I'd be very disappointed with your father if he didn't like you.”

“Well, he wouldn't have been the first family member who didn't like me,” Genis said with a wince. “Phyla—my sister—kind of hates me.”

“Well, then I'm disappointed with her,” Melissa says. She brushes her hand against his cheek again, and he takes it and runs his thumb against the top. Then, before he can do anything, he feels Chewie push her head against his chest.

Carefully, he picks up the flerken in one hand and lifts her up. She puts her paws – without claws, on his face and begins licking his nose. Her whiskers tickle, and her tongue is rough and smells of fish. Genis holds very still until Chewie seems to be satisfied and curls up around his neck like a giant warming pillow. It eases his stiffness and he can wrap his arms around Melissa as she leans against him. They are silent for a while as he listens to the cat and the woman breathe.

And after a moment, Genis says something that surprises even himself: “I think I am happy for them.”


	26. Day 6, Part 5: I will scream them loud tonight/Can you hear my voice this time?

Carol calls Tony armed with reasonable arguments and the fact that she has Reed's confirmation that she is not being mind-controlled by this week's crazy telepath.

 “Do you want me to double-check?” Tony asks in a perfectly reasonable tone. It's so reasonable, in fact, that it makes Carol want to strangle her phone. “I have- No, no, don't put this here- this thing- more to the right- Friday, can you book a restaurant, I need to talk with Carol and- That's exactly the right spot. Put it down-gently, this is not your- Aw, shucks.”

 There is a sound like glass breaking. And then a female voice, although Carol can't make out the words.

 “Uh, sorry, Carol, can we maybe talk in- Friday will send you the time and place, okay?” Tony says. “I'm need to- A minute. Sorry, should end, you'll get a message in a moment. See you.”

 And then he disconnects, leaving Carol with all her very reasonable arguments. It's rather annoying. Well, she will still get to say them, if Tony remembers to send her the message. She puts down her phone in front of herself and sits down to wait.

 Then, her phone beeps. She glances at it, but it's just her calendar- Damn. She will have to cancel the meeting with Jess and the others. Damn it. And she was looking forward to it quite a lot.

 She picks Jess's number from the list and waits for her to pick up.

 “Hi, Carol. Is something up?”

 “Yeah,” she answers. “I won't make it today. I have to talk with Tony about my space ship-”

 “Damn it, Carol,” Jess mock-growls. “You're going to space to rescue your boyfriend and you won't even come in person to tell me about it?”

 “I'll tell you about it in person when I come back,” Carol replies. “You know, once I'm done with all the exciting things like sitting on a space-ship with my cat.”

 “You will be coming back with more than a cat,” Jess points out in a far to reasonable tone. “Well, we won't be completely out of blondes, if you don't come. Clint and Bobbi decided to attend.”

 “Good for you,” Carol laughs. “I would hate to think you won't be meeting the quota. Tell them I said hi. And take care Clint doesn’t give Bobbi puppy dog eyes. Or doesn’t end up walking out with his foot in his mouth.” It’s a pity she won’t be there. She’d have some words with him about Melissa.

 “Will.” Jess chuckles. “So, will you take your stepson and his girlfriend on your trip, too?”

 Carol almost swallows her tongue when hearing that. She gave Jessica too many details about Mar-Vell’s extended family. “I wish you hadn’t said that. Now I feel old. And like panicking. I don’t want to be a mother figure.” Except there’s Kamala, and Anya and Melissa confessing to her on the roof of the Baxter Building and crying in her arms… And now she feels protective about her and wants to slap Clint for hurting her… “Oh shit.”

 She isn't getting much of a say on that, is she? Well, at least Kamala has an actual mother, as far as she knows. The others, however...

 “It can’t be that bad.” There’s a doorbell ringing in the background. “It’s Clint. I’ll get the door.” Quick steps, and then a door opening and closing, before Jessica continues. “Surely Genis-Vell and Songbird don’t need diapers changed anymore. And everything else is piece of cake, trust me.”

 How come Jess knows that? It's not like her kid is out of the diaper-changing phase...

 “-don't know about Vell Jr., but Melissa can take care of herself perfectly fine. Who's talking, anyway?” Clint asks, his voice somewhat muffled by the distance from the speaker.

 “It’s Carol”, Jess says, “And the rest is complicated. But apparently, Songbird is dating her stepson. Don’t ask me.”

 “Will you stop calling him that?” Carol says, wishing for a bit of Steve’s ‘person of authority’ aura. It’s making her feel old. And approaching midlife crisis.

 “Not while it riles you up like that”, infuriating Jessica answers.

 “Can you ask how Mel's doing?” Clint interrupts their bickering.

 Seeing an opening to still put in a word for Melissa, she quickly says, “Tell Clint Melissa Gold- you know what? Tell Clint to visit the Fantastic Four, if he wants to see how she’s doing. If he is asking about her, then he can move his ass and show he cares. And say he’s sorry, while he’s at it.”

 “Did he do something dumb again?” Jess snorts. “We’ll drive him.”

 Somewhat muffled she hears: “I don’t get a say?” but Jess breaks the connection before she hears the answer. For a moment, she wonders if her suggestion was a good idea, but then, they are all mature adults, right? They should be able to sort it out.

 Wait, did she just call Clint Barton, Mr.-storm-off-in-a-huff-and-get-married-without-telling-anybody a mature adult?

 

* * *

 

 Una refuses to make the meeting with her father dramatic in any way. She will not act upset—to think she wanted to get revenge for his death, when all he did was ruin any chance of a normal life she had. He does not deserve to see he makes her upset.

 She studies him for a while—he doesn't look all the different from the last time she'd seen him, she supposes. There are just things she hadn't realized that were there—like the lines around his mouth that make his frown more pronounced.

 “I always thought your hair looked ridiculous,” she says. It hadn't been fashionable a decade ago, and it certainly was not in vogue now.

 “Is that how you talk to your father?” Yon-Rogg asks, clearly irritated. Point to her.

 He gets up and approaches the force-field keeping them apart. It makes his skin and clothes take on a blue tinge—not enough to make him look actually properly blue, though.

  “Given that I did, clearly it is,” Una answers and smiles smugly. “So, how exactly did you fail so badly?”

 Her father glares at her. “It's unimportant. What is important is what we will do once you get me out of here.”

 Una cannot resist. She makes her best mock-sweet face and says, “But I'm not getting you out. I didn't know you were alive when I came here at all. I'm here to see a friend.” She blinks innocently. “Do you know who it is? I'll tell you. Genis-Vell. The son of the man you failed to kill so badly he managed to have several illegitimate children. I guess he was much more amusing than you.”

 Yon-Rogg turns a deep shade of red, but otherwise doesn't show how angry that made him. Another point for Una.

 “I came here to tell you one thing. I hope I'll never see you again. Don't ask me to help you kill Mar-Vell's son or daughter. In fact, don't try to contact me at all.”

 Then she turns around and marches of, and tells herself she's not disappointed at all that he never said he was sorry.

 

* * *

 

 After the press conference, Rick and Marlo use the opportunity of being in New York and for once not being shot at for a walk through Central Park. His luck being what it is, it starts raining just as they get comfortable on a bench, eating hot dogs.

 Rick rolls his eyes and looks the offending heavens. “Really, Thor or whoever. Does it have to be like this?”

 Marlo grins and grabs him to run over to a tree. By the time they reach it, it’s raining stronger, but not yet a downpour. Certainly not strong enough to deter the fitness freaks, who are still jogging and walking and whatevering past their shelter.

 Resigned they lean against the tree trunk and finish their now watered down hot dogs. Rick feels Marlo’s eyes on him, inquisitive, and then more and more impatient.

 “Alright. What was it all about?”

 “What?” He raises his hands, pleading innocence. Marlo rolls her eyes. “The song. You dodged all the questions at the conference.”

 “You know what it was about.”

 Marlo frowns, then the dots connect. “Genis-Vell. Do you think he saw it?”

 “I don’t know.” Rick doesn’t really know what kind of impulse makes he deny seeing Genis and talking to him. Maybe a shadow of the old jealousy? Or maybe just his reluctance of having to confess to her that he might be leaving on a space ship soon, once again breaking one of the contracts she so patiently keeps arranging.

 “You could ask?” Marlo snuggles up to him, as the rain lessens. “Did Captain Marvel tell you what exactly happened?”

 Rick shrugs. “No details. Just that he’s back.” Which isn’t exactly a lie. Just, she told him a lot more the second time she visited.

 A feeling of warmth makes Rick turn his head and he sees Mar-Vell stand on the path, rain falling through his translucent form. He doesn’t say anything, merely shakes his head in an exasperated way. Rick shrugs, and Marv disappears.

 Really, he’ll be very glad once Marv is back and they can have conversations. Not that he will feel less silly then. Alright, he is silly. He knows it.

 “Rick?” Marlo eyes him skeptically, following his gaze to a perfectly empty piece of lawn. “Are you ok?”

 “Sure. Just, cold. Let’s go back to the hotel and abuse the room service?”

 

* * *

 Carol eventually does get a message from Tony. It's a name of a restaurant—one of the less fancy ones even. Which means Tony probably read a review somewhere which said that it has the best whatever and is trying to prove he has local knowledge.

 She shows up there, just as Tony lands. He waves at her and then, holds up his hand. Something flashes—presumably something technological and scanning.

 “It's nice to know your friends trust you,” Carol says dryly.

 His armor starts retracting, so she can see his grin. And that he's wearing a suit—one that probably costs only slightly less than his armor.

 “Well, you know, you never know what horrible monstrous plan someone will come up with this week,” Tony answers cheerfully. “Did I tell you about- Ah, never mind.” He frowns and tilts his head to the side. “Yup, unless someone came up with a new way of mind-controlling people, you are not hypnotized or anything.”

 “Thank you, Tony,” Carol says. “I'm sure Reed will be happy to know how much trust you put in him.”

 “It's science,” Tony answers confidently. “Now, about what you said-”

 “Look, _he_ would know what is going on,” Carol says as they enter the restaurant. Given that she at least managed to explain that Mar-Vell was getting himself back to life, she did need to go over that. And it was probably best to stay vague—one never knew who could overhear.

 “Smithers. Table reserved for two,” Tony tells the waiter, who points them to an empty one next to the window. “Right, so... You mentioned needing upgrades for your space ship?”

 “Mhm,” Carol nods. “Given what would happen if the Kree got wind, it's best if he gets out of there as soon as possible. And yes, he can travel in space on his own, just like me, but it takes longer. And he has a very obvious, very specific energy signature. So...”

 “So, it's a very good thing Tony Stark likes both of you,” Tony says.

 


	27. Day 6, Part 6:  Come just as you are to me/Don't need apologies

When Franklin and Valeria show up (because Genis is deemed sufficiently recovered that their curiosity can be indulged) Melissa decides to use the opportunity to get some things done. She answers the ignored inquiries from work. And then goes on to start her schoolwork.

And now she is sitting over her physics lesson. The letters are dancing in front of Melissa’s eyes. Normally, this is rather fascinating stuff, explaining many things she only overheard or got explained hastily by people like Abe or Norbert. But now, she is quite tired and her brain doesn’t feel like it wants to follow long sentences full of numbers and exotic symbols.

 She pushes back her laptop, and rests her head on her hands for a moment. Her muscles are tense and her spine feels stiff. With a groan, she tries to rub some life back into her neck, but it’s not working.

 And then she must have dozed off, because the sound of the elevator doors opening startles her badly. Sue steps out, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and cookies. A very tall man in a trench coat follows. It takes her a moment recognize Hawkeye, since he is not wearing a mask, and his hair is plastered to his head. It must be raining outside. Given the unpleasant words exchanged when they last saw each other, Melissa wonders why he is here. He is scrutinizing her critically, and after a moment starts to frown.

 Sue places the tray on the table and – apparently ignoring that neither of them did anything other than stare – excuses herself after taking Clint’s dripping coat with her.

 “Hello,” Melissa finally says, since the silence has long ago passed being uncomfortable.

 “Hi.”

 He motions for the chair beside her, and she nods. Not that it is her chair, but since he is asking… Once he sits, he scratches his head and then, when staring at her finally loses the novelty, he directs his inspection to the computer screen. “Physics?”

 What? For a moment, she wonders if she should confront him on what happened between them, on what he called her… She thinks back to the conversation she and Carol had about him and other people. Most of the time, Clint had been one of the rare people who accepted her regardless of her past. So, maybe it isn’t worth it. Apologizing doesn’t seem to be his strong suit, and truth to be told, she’d rather he forgives her and acts normally again. She doesn’t have that many friends. So she nods, glad he still wants to speak to her. “I’m trying to get my high school diploma. Since my last attempt at getting an education didn’t work out, I’m doing it the hard way.”

 “Now might be a better time than when you were a teenager,” Clint says with a grin. Yeah, definitely trying to act like everything is back to normal. Which is fine by her. “You know you're cooler than all the cool kids combined.”

 “And my boyfriend can fry their boyfriends,” Melissa replies in her best vapid Valley girl voice. She can do that, too. “Not that I'd ask him to.”

 Clint blinks again. “I’m pretty sure you could fry any stupid jock yourself.”

 “Yes, but that apparently still earns you less points,” Melissa sighs. “You know, I thought this would have changed by now. And now I feel old.”

 Clint takes one of the mugs and takes a sip. “Can't say I know what changed or didn't—all I know about high school comes from TV and listening to people my age. And given that my generation are the people making shows about high schools, it might all be way behind the times.”

 Melissa sighs and stretches. “I don’t think so. Some things never change. The Literary Analysis class even has a lot of fancy names for it. Like Double Standard and things getting evaluated differently, if they are done by women or men.” That’s also probably what Carol was alluding to in their conversation about Zemo.

 Clint seems to think about it for a while, then says, “If something like that is giving you trouble, I'd talk with Carol. And if she can't think of- Hey, I could talk with Jess and Bobbi and see if we can invite you next time—they can all probably give you some advice. And I can sit and look pretty.”

 “You're not going to trick me into thinking you're stupid,” Melissa says. “But thank you. That's nice—I'll think about it.” The relieved sigh comes out without her volition. If he wants to invite her to meet his friends, he’s over their argument. Not that she would ever take him up on that – Bobbi Morse is a SHIELD agent in good standing and she’d never embarrass her like that. Likely Clint isn’t considering that, and she doesn’t want to remind him now he got over it.

 A new silence threatens. To cover it she takes one of the cups on the tray. It’s hot chocolate, OK, lukewarm chocolate by now. Sweet and slightly tart. Real chocolate. Not the cheap stuff one buys with sugar and additives, but homemade. There’s less than a handful of times she tasted something like this. One of them sticks out.

 “Mel? You OK?”

 She blinks, and becomes aware of tears on her cheeks. It startles her, while Clint gently removes the cup from her fingers before she can drop it. He cups her cheek in his hand and wipes them away.

 “It's all right,” he says. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” And then he adds: “If you still trust me,” proving he is not a totally insensitive idiot.

 Melissa wipes her eyes. “It’s nothing actually. Just… A reminder of stuff.” She’s aware that might come out differently than she meant it so she adds: “I do trust you. But it’s just…”

 “Bad stuff?” Clint asks, while carefully putting an arm around her shoulders. “Should I shoot exploding arrows at someone?”

 She manages a chuckle through her tears. “No… Not bad stuff. Sentimental. Susan is mothering me and that… sometimes reminds me of how I … missed my mom. And that she actually didn’t deserve that.”

 He strokes her hair. “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen. And try to give sensible advice, or just make sympathetic noises, your call.”

 She snorts. For someone who can be so infuriatingly immature, he really has a talent for saying the right things, sometimes. For a moment, she wants to take him up on it, but tired as she is, she’ll probably go to pieces in his arms and that’s not something she can afford now. “I’m not normally this difficult. It’s just, the last few days were hard. And I’m exhausted. Makes me a bit fragile, I guess.” As he pulls her closer, she rests her head on his shoulder.

 “Shhh. It’s OK, kid. It’s not difficult if you want a little support now and then. Everybody has the right to be fragile,” he says, cradling her in his arms like he did in San Francisco. “And if you are exhausted, you should rest. Not work more. You’re helping nobody if you run yourself ragged.”

 That’s a good point. Just as she wants to agree, and allows herself to lean against him a little longer, his phone rings. She sits up and raises her eyebrows as he pulls it out, reads the message and sighs. “I gotta go. Will you be OK?”

 “I’ll be fine.” Melissa squares her shoulders and wipes her eyes. Looking at Clint’s face, she sees clear signs of worry, likely about whoever sent the message. “What was that about everybody needing rest?” she teases, trying to at least take one care off his shoulders. 

 Clint pulls her close for a moment. “I’ll be back. Still need to meet your boyfriend, after all. Gotta make sure he’ll take good care of you.” He winks at her before kissing her on the forehead and getting up.

 He’s halfway to the elevator before Melissa manages a protesting “Clint!”

 Then, she sighs and closes the computer. Working is out of the question, and before she falls asleep on her laptop, watching cartoons with Genis and Valeria should be something her tired brain will manage.

 

* * *

 

 

Genis has never been baby-sat and as such has very mixed feelings about his current situation. There's little Valeria Richards sitting next to him, and not-so-little but still small Franklin, and in case he was getting ideas, there's a flerken on his lap.

 And they're watching some cartoon, or rather Valeria is dismantling the cartoon, while Franklin plays on a portable console. Which means Genis and the flerken have the task of listening and pretending to be intelligent. Well, at least Genis is pretending. The flerken is purring.

 “And it's a fairly accurate portrayal of OCD, did you know?” Valeria says.

 “How do you know that?” Genis asks. He's certain that's not something a child her age—or a child twice her age, come to think of it, usually knows.

 "My mom has a PhD in psychology. I read her thesis. Then I asked her about the stuff in the footnotes." Valeria sounds perfectly nonchalant, like reading a thesis is something one does in her spare-time.

 Franklin mutters: “Show off” and rolls his eyes.

 Genis nods, finding nothing much else to say to this. He looks down at the flerken, who rolls over and exposes her belly.

 “Don't pet it, it's a trap,” Valeria says firmly.

 “No, it's not, don't be silly,” Franklin says.

 The flerken waves her paws imperiously and squeaks. Since even now Genis is pretty hard to damage, he risks it and scratches the soft fur. The flerken purrs and refrains from clawing at his hand. So, he at least has one useful life-skill.

 Valeria gives them an offended look, and turns back towards the screen, where the... whatever those things are meant to be are fighting further whatevers in explosions of rainbows and sparkles, and maybe even flowers. It looks vaguely like some of the more psychedelic products of Xandarian entertainment.

 “Just fifteen minutes more,” Franklin mouths at him.

 “I think I'd be fine, if I knew what this is all about,” Genis says. “It's... kind of in the middle.”

 Valeria Richards turns around with a predatory glint in her blue eyes. Her grin is worryingly shark-like.

 “I can get all the DVDs!” she announces and dashes out.

 Franklin sighs. Genis resumes scratching the flerken's belly. Surely, rainbowy flowery whatevers can't be so bad.

 

* * *

 

 

Melissa only barely manages to avoid colliding with Valeria Richards, who comes rushing from behind a corner while carrying a stack of DVDs. She jumps out of the way just as the girl stops.

 “Careful,” Melissa says.

 “I have to be quick or Franklin can get something else to watch,” the little girl answers.

 “That would be terrible,” Melissa agrees, trying to stay serious.

 Valeria huffs. Then, her expression brightens. “If you really think so, you should come with me and tell him so.”

 She then turns on her heel and marches away, with a giggling Melissa in tow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Susan Richards has a PhD according to newer Fantastic Four material. It doesn't say what sort, though, so we just decided to give her one in psychology, because that's probably the most useful for someone dealing with the likes of Johnny Storm, Ben Grimm and the Future Foundation.  
> \- What happened between Clint and Melissa is for another story, for now we can just say it is kind of sort of inspired by what happened during Standoff, which we never got closure for, since Clint ended up in Civil War II (which we are ignoring in case you cannot tell).   
> \- Yes, we know Melissa was a college Freshman in New Thunderbolts, but given that she ran away from home as at twelve or so, and lived on the streets before going to prison and then becoming a Grappler, just when would she have finished High School? So she is going to do that now. For the Freshman thing, we are going to offer an explanation later.


	28. Day 6, Part 7: Oh it seems to me / That sorry seems to be the hardest word

Sue considers regular bedtime overrated anyway. It’s not worth the fight, and children will sleep when they are tired. But since Franklin and Valeria are still missing by her own bedtime, she decides to collect them. In the guest quarters, a rather touching picture greets her.

Valeria and Franklin are lying on the couch, fast asleep and covered by a blanket. They are curled up together, their blond hair hanging into their faces. She pushes it back, as her gaze falls on Genis and Melissa, who are asleep on the bed.

The young woman leans against the bedhead, Genis’s face resting on her chest, her arms around him. There's Carol's cat curled up at his side. She is awake and watching the wall with interest, occasionally making soft mewing noises.

Clint sits in a chair inside the door, watching them all. “Hello, Sue.”

“Hello, Clint,” Sue answers as she makes her way to her children. A properly applied force field will do as transport and she won't risk waking them up. “I thought you left.”

“I promised Melissa to come back and meet her boyfriend. Except, I found them like this. I could have called Jess to pick me up, but I think you might be having a minor case of a haunting,” Hawkeye answers. “I may not be an expert on exorcisms, but I thought I'd stay. In case.” Then, he glances at a spot behind Genis sheepishly. “Although maybe that is rude of me, in case that red blur was actually Mar-Vell. Er. You know.”

“It probably is him,” Sue answers placidly.

Clint glances at the wall—or probably where he saw the red blur—again. “Sorry? You could have been something else?”

Since talking to a wall makes one feel silly, Sue has an idea. “Mar-Vell? May I try something?” She doesn’t hear an answer, but it feels like the blur in the corner of her eyes nods. So, she carefully applies some pressure to make the invisible visible and is rewarded with the sight of the Kree standing on the other side of the bed, looking at her with a smile.

“So, holidays from the land of the dead?” Clint asks. Mar-Vell rolls his eyes and mouths something to which Clint snorts. “Fine, fine, I get it, stupid joke.”

When both Sue and Mar-Vell look at him, it's his turn to roll his eyes. “I can read lips.”

Mar-Vell visibly brightens and says something else. “Yes, I’ll translate”, Clint agrees. “He wants to thank you and Reed for your help. For saving Genis and everything else you have done.”

“There's no need,” Sue says with a smile. “That's what we do.”

While Sue gently stabilizes her kids on the invisible transport platform, Clint silently tiptoes over to the bed and adjusts the blanket over Melissa and Genis. Mar-Vell says something else and Clint colors bright red and nods. The men mime shaking hands – it’s hard to do that when one is intangible and Clint follows her out.

He’s rubbing his hand. “That’s so weird. It feels like touching a ray of sunshine, and I’m normally not one to make poetic comparisons.”

“So, what did he say?” Sue throws Clint a speculative look. “You looked rather uncomfortable back there.”

Hawkeye turns crimson again and clams up, so she shrugs. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll just put the kids to bed and then I’ll make you some coffee while you wait for Jessica to pick you up, alright?”

Clint nods, and then, says, “He said that I don’t need to worry about Melissa—more or less.” He gives her a wry smile then. “As if it were that easy. There was this girl in the circus I grew up in—Melissa sometimes reminds me of her. I guess because they had a similar past, because they’re not the same type of person, personality-wise at all. But she was a friend, and well… She had some horrible things happen to her, before she eventually got lucky.”

“And you feel you should protect Melissa?” Sue guesses.

“I’m probably a million years too late for that,” Hawkeye says. “But I want her to know that if anything happens, I’ve her back and all that.”

There is a moment, where it seems that he wants to add something more, but eventually he just settles for looking guilty.

  

* * *

 

 

Clint settles onto a chair with a mug of coffee and tries to look like a man who has nothing to hide. It’s likely not working, because this is Sue Richards and he has things to hide, but one cannot be faulted for trying.

“You really don’t have to tell me anything more,” Sue says.

“I messed up,” Clint replies, giving up on trying to keep up appearances. “Recently, I should have been her friend and trusted her that she’d do the right thing. I didn’t.”

It sounds so much worse when he says it out loud. He takes a sip of coffee to clear the unpleasant taste the words left on his tongue, while Sue waits for him to continue.

“Instead, I told her that she would always betray everyone and so much more over-dramatic cruel shit she didn’t deserve,” he says.

“Did you apologize?” Sue asks in a stern voice.

“That’s why I came here today,” he answers, while examining the mug intently. “Uh… Just, I don’t really know what to say. It’s not like ‘sorry’ will take it away and everything will be gone.”

“Apologizing isn’t about wiping the slate clean,” Sue says. “It’s about acknowledging that you’ve done something you now realize was wrong, first and foremost.”

“I guess I can do that,” he says, covering the cup with his hands and feeling the warmth prickle his palm. “But I don’t think it ever changed anything.”

"What do you think it should have accomplished?" Sue asks.

Clint isn’t sure how to answer that. He is aware that an apology is not a get-out-of-jail-free card, but given how it’s often made into this huge deal, he thinks something should happen.

“I guess it’s not really just apologizing,” Clint says eventually, “but more that it sometimes looks like no matter how often I say I’m sorry, it’s not enough.” He sighs. “It seems that some people are actually enjoying hanging one’s mistakes over one’s head, like, forever.”

“Sometimes, there’s just nothing you can do,” Sue says, “other than accept that the other person will not forgive you, and that it’s best that you limit contact with them for both your and their good. But I don’t think Melissa will hold a grudge like this?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Clint says and looks at his coffee, which is no longer steaming. “I guess that she probably forgave me already, since she acted like everything was back to normal. But that’s not really an excuse to not own up to my mistake, right?”

“No, it’s not,” Sue replies. “Be glad she is willing to overlook it, but considering you told me she has been treated badly by people...”

“Oh shit.” He wants to slam his head into the table. “I better make sure I’m not one of them. And she doesn’t think that. Ever.”

Sue gives him a look of very ironic appreciation. “Sounds like a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering, Clint is talking about a character who appears in a flashback in the All-New Hawkeye series from 2015 by Jeff Lemire. We don't know her name, but she's a teenage acrobat trained by Swordsman to be a burglar, and she's also in a relationship with him, which sort of echoes the relationships Melissa described to Abe Jenkins in Thunderbolts. It sort of explains how Clint is so quick to recognize Melissa's motivation when she kisses him during his time as leader of the Thunderbolts.


	29. Day 6, Part 8: In dreams I walk with you, In dreams I talk to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Jessica Drew and Hydra, look up Spider-Woman Origin. Jessica and the Skrulls are in Secret Invasion. And Marcus comes from the infamous issue 200 of Avengers.

An evening with Tony is always an experience. He can be charming and infuriating in turns and then he might turn corny in a second. Also, dinner was very good, even if she always feels like fancy things are wasted on her. At least, it was a success, having secured all updates Tony is capable of giving to Harrison, so she will be able to reach Kree space in appreciable time.

Feeling accomplished, she goes to bed. That Chewie isn’t here feels strange, and stranger still that her flerken would take to Genis like that. It’s not like Chewie had been all that maternal towards her own kittens. On the other hand, not having to navigate her body around a tiny furry object that somehow takes up five times the space it should be able to, is not such a bad thing.

It’s a dream, and yet it feels quite real, as someone sinks into bed beside her. She turns over, wraps her arms around Mar-Vell and smiles. How quickly she’s gotten used to him being there. He returns her embrace and brushes his lips against her cheek.

"Do ghosts dream, too?" she asks Mar-Vell.

“I think I am awake. Or maybe everything I’m seeing is a dream, and I will only wake up when my body is restored.” He frowns. “That sounds like a philosophical question, and I’m not a philosopher.”

“You are certainly not this… solid when I’m awake.” Oops, that could have come out spectacularly wrong. Fortunately, it seems Mar-Vell is about as impervious to innuendo as Genis seems to be. Or at least very adept at pretending he heard none.

“Did you know Goliath can read lips?”

“Who?” It takes her a moment to process that. “You mean Clint. Clint Barton, Hawkeye.” It’s been an eternity since he went by that name. It’s also been an eternity since Mar-Vell met him and there’s no reason to keep track on everyone’s codenames when dead, so she just keeps talking before he can feel awkward. “Yes, I know. He’s partially deaf.”

“And it turns out Sue can make me visible,” Mar-Vell adds. He runs his hand against her cheek. “Hawkeye is very protective of- Songbird, it seems?”

“They used to be on the same team.” Carol pauses. “It's a bit of a long story- they started out as villains and then tried to redeem themselves and Clint wanted to help-”

“I see.” Mar-Vell answers, watching her with interest.

“I guess mostly it's that Clint sees something of himself in her? Runaway teenager turned criminal turned hero?”, she ventures.

“He seems to see himself as an older brother, or maybe even a father figure, looking for a way to explain that the young woman has someone who will stand up for her if she is mistreated.” He pulls Carol closer, and suddenly she becomes aware of his warmth. Obviously her brain is expecting certain things when being held close to someone else’s body and now it is filling in the details.

She chuckles. “Who’d have thought that. I guess, that is something the Kree know, too?”

“It varies on who you are,” Mar-Vell said. “People from military families would see it as more as an insult—an implication they are not capable of protecting themselves. But if you're a noble, and marrying because of politics... it's expected. Otherwise, the other side might assume you are easy pickings.”

Carol nods. “My brothers would have been supposed to do a similar speech, except by the point that came up they weren’t talking to me anymore. And I’d probably have been insulted, too.”

Mar-Vell nods. “I can understand why you would be. Do you think Songbird would have appreciated it?”

Carol frowns. “I think it depends on who was making it and to whom.”

“Because I told Hawkeye that he does not need to tell it to Genis,” Mar-Vell says.

“In that case, I think she will appreciate Clint's new-found sensitivity,” Carol replies. “I’m not sure Genis would understand it in the right way.” Given how he didn’t understand why Melissa was so afraid of telling him about Zemo, she is pretty sure he wouldn’t have.

“No, I don't think he would have,” Mar-Vell says and sighs. “I keep wondering if I'm being over-protective and then I remember- I should have been there. It’s all so complicated because when Genis needed me, he had nobody.”

He sounds so horribly guilty about it.

“You cannot blame yourself for something out of your control,” Carol says, knowing that it does not work like this at all. “You had no way of knowing, and even if you did...”

“I'd have still died,” he says. “I know. I just feel so... helpless—there's nothing I could have done, and I can barely do anything now. He is going to bear those scars all his life and no matter what I do, I can’t take them away.”

“It takes time,” Carol replies, “and support for someone to recover. You're there for Genis now, and that's not barely anything.” She pulls him over into a kiss and looks deeply into his eyes before reaching her decision. “Your son is more than those scars. He is hurt, hurt badly, yes, but he survived. He is a hero. What was done to him will not define him forever now it was revealed, just like Hydra and the Skrulls did not define Jessica Drew. Or Marcus me.”

When Mar-Vell looks up at her, astonished, she continues. 

“You might have heard parts of the story,” she says. “That Immortus had a son—a greedy boy in the body of an adult with the power of a god. Once Immortus perished—or will have, or however it works, his son wanted out of Limbo where he was trapped. He could not do so easily, but he found a way—he would need a woman, who could... give birth to him on Earth. She needed to be strong, and apparently a Kree-human hybrid would be strong enough.”

She rests her cheek against Mar-Vell's head as she talks, and feels him shift slightly. He tries to look at her face. “I learned of this, yes. But… I was told you loved him. You went with him of your own free will.”

Carol shakes her head, aware that the raw agony of those revelations will still be visible somewhere in her eyes, especially for a man who is cosmically aware.

“It apparently did not occur to Marcus to ask for help—he wanted something that I had, and so he took me to Limbo, where he tried to win me. It didn't work, so he turned towards his father's machines. In the end what I wanted had not mattered. He sent me back, so I could serve as a glorified door to our world, and when it turned out he couldn't stay there, he still had enough control over my mind to take me like a consolation prize. He used me, he bent me to his will and nobody noticed.”

There’s a strangled sob from Mar-Vell, and suddenly Carol realises that this happened while he was still alive, still around. He was not there, not present for any of it, but he would still wonder if he should have known. So, she adds somewhat hastily:

“But he died and I lived, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let someone like that control my life from his grave.” She puts a hand under Mar-Vell’s chin and makes him look into her eyes: “Things like that don't have to define you,” she says strongly. “Because in the end they are in the past, and that's where they will stay unless you let them control you.”

“You just need to put them there first,” Mar-Vell replies. “And that is the hard part.”

“That is the complicated part,” Carol agrees. “But there are people who can help—I'd go to Charles Xavier or Jean Grey, who both had a lot of experience with helping recovery in cases of trauma, but they both have an acute case of being dead. There’s Doc Samson, but his schedule is always full.”

Mar-Vell gives her a half-amused look. “Then there is probably someone else- Can we pretend I did not forget that the Invisible Woman has a degree in psychology?”

“Yes, just like we will pretend I didn't forget it either,” Carol says. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “It’s odd—I’d never forget Karla Sofen of all people has a degree, and with Sue or- oh fuck, I forgot Bobbi Morse has one too.”

She shakes her head with disgust, while Mar-Vell pats her shoulder. “You won’t forget again?”


	30. Day 7, Part 1: I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do / They're really saying I love you

At the Baxter Building next morning, Sue takes Carol to the guest wing to give Genis and Melissa the news about the ship being ready. As they walk towards the foyer leading to the rooms, Sue stops her with a finger to her lips and they peek around the corner.

Apparently they moved the couch from Genis’s room outside and towards the table, where a few books and a laptop are arranged. Genis sits on the couch, Chewie on his lap and holds flash cards, while Melissa is curled up opposite of him, a look of deep concentration on her face. After a few moments, Carol realizes what they are doing – he is testing her knowledge of Civics and Government. He is rarely looking at the cards, yet his answers are always correct. Is Melissa studying for some sort of test? Maybe Carol can ask her later.

There is also a tray with cookies and a teapot on the floor and Melissa absentmindedly occasionally reaches down to take one.

Sue goes back a few steps and asks Carol in a whisper: “May I borrow them a bit longer? They make me feel nostalgic. Just like Reed and I when I was finishing my thesis and Reed worked on his projects. And my aunt brought us cookies...”

Carol grins. “I don’t think that’s for me to decide.” Then, she enters the room and asks, “May I interrupt you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Melissa says, looking away from the flash cards.

“So, I've good news,” Carol says pulling up a chair for herself. When they both look at her expectantly, she continues, “Tony will add a few upgrades to Harrison—that's my space ship and I can go and fetch Mar-Vell.”

Genis looks at her both relieved and a bit apprehensive. “If… If Mr. Fantastic says I’m up to it, may I come along? With Rick?” He looks at her pleadingly.

So much for a quick trip without hassle. “What does your father say?” Which are actually words she once thought ought to be banned forever. She might be getting old.

“He said I may come. If I’m up to. I promised to ask Reed Richards for his ok. If he says I can’t…” His expression, already insecure, falls completely.

Carol sighs. “Then let’s wait for that. There’s room enough for you and Rick aboard.” She notices that Genis is now clutching Melissa’s hand and she adds: “There’d also be room enough for you, Melissa. If you want to help me look after those two.”

“That might be not an option,” Melissa replies, her worry evident. “I used up almost all of my leave, and I can't really ask my boss to give me more to go gallivanting into space to help Captain Marvel rescue Captain Marvel.”

Carol looks at the two of them, both looking at her like kicked puppies. Or sad kittens. She will have to find a way of getting Melissa on the ship, won't she? It's probably karma for asking Genis what his father has to say. Maybe if she snaps a photo of them now, she can use it to make Steve feel bad about Melissa not being able to come.

“I'll see what I can do,” she says. “Now, I suppose you'd want to ask Rick if he is ready?”

Maybe at least he will decide to stay on Earth. Surely, he'd have enough of Kree wanting his brain, or liver, or kidneys or whatever it was that was supposed to host his particular MacGuffin Force. 

 

* * *

 

 

There was always a chance that it'd be Marlo who'd pick up Rick's phone, and that probably would have been slightly awkward if it was Carol Danvers calling. As it is, Genis manages a  “Hi Marlo, can I talk to Ri-” before he gets interrupted.

“Genis? How are you?” Marlo asks.

“Um... better then yesterday,” he says, opting to be honest.

“What happened to you?” Marlo continues but before Genis can say anything, she says, “No, wait, that's not a conversation we should be having over the phone. Where are you?

It seems like they won't be getting anywhere near the subject of Rick and space travel until she asks all her questions, so Genis decides to just answer them.

“In the Baxter Building,” he says. “Didn't Rick tell you?”

There is a moment of silence, and when Marlo speaks again, Genis almost shudders. It's like the temperature has dropped several degrees. “No. So, Rick visited you?”

“Um. Yes?” Genis replies, wondering just how much trouble he's getting Rick into. Or why he didn't tell Marlo that they talked. “He really didn't tell you that?”

Which is a stupid question, because Marlo wouldn't sound so angry if he had. He probably should try to think of a way to smooth things over, except his mind kind of blanks out there. Besides, given his track-record of helping Rick and Marlo reconcile, he probably should not try.

“No,” Marlo says and falls silent for a moment. “So. You're in the Baxter Building? I think I’ll come over. Maybe I'll even take my husband, if he-”

There's a pause and then Marlo splutters. “He just ran away!”

Genis decides to try being a better person and not take solace in being more mature than Rick.

  

* * *

 

 

It takes Marlo two hours to actually get to the room where Genis is, and by that time she has calmed down some and is in a somewhat less a militant mood than one would otherwise expect. Then, she is greeted with the sight of Carol Danvers attempting to lure a cat to herself.

It's one of those sights that require a Renaissance master of painting to capture—the centre of the scene would be a white minimalistic couch, on which Genis is sitting and doing his best to look as sheepish as possible. Marlo almost does a double take realising he is all human looking again. Before him there is Carol Danvers, who looks exasperated as she kneels on the nondescript greyish floor. Someone female with white and pink hair is only sort of poking out from behind Genis, because she's laughing so hard. The cat herself, big, fluffy and orange, is sprawled on Genis's lap, and is washing her hind paw studiously.

Then, the cat turns around, looks at Marlo, hisses loudly and jumps straight into Carol Danver's arms, where she proceeds with a tirade of offended squeaky noises. Genis looks towards the door, and he gets up from the couch. His movements are slower than she expects—careful, as if standing up is a complicated procedure.

Marlo decides that she can leave the newest Captain Marvel to deal with the cat, and marches to Genis and gives him a hug. “Hi, Genis. Glad to see you are back.”

“Hi Marlo,” he says over the offended noises the cat is making, wrapping his arms around her.

Marlo pulls away and takes a good look at him. It’s something of a shock seeing him all normal and human looking, not blue and ghostly. Still she can see his skin is too pale, and there are shadows under his eyes. Given that he's back from the dead or something approximating it, she supposes it's to be expected.

He returns her scrutiny somewhat helplessly and she remembers how normal human interaction would sometimes confuse him.

The pink-and-white-haired young woman looks up at her, as she finally manages to stop laughing. That's when Marlo recognizes her—it's Songbird of the Thunderbolts.

“How are you feeling?” Marlo asks, since inquiring if he lost his powers isn’t exactly a diplomatic question to ask a superhero.

The answer is more or less what she expects, which is a shrug, followed by a wince and a grimace. Then, because unlike some people she actually has a brain, she digs through her purse, and fishes out a small box of chocolate, and then kisses Genis's cheek.

“And you don't have to introduce me to your friend,” she says and turns to the woman. “You're Songbird. The Thunderbolt. The one with the awesome action figures.”

“Melissa is fine,” the young woman answers. “Really think they are awesome? I always found them somewhat weird.”

“Really? Huh, I think I still have a few squirrelled away,” Marlo answers. “I could give one to you.” Then, after a moment, she adds, “I'm not a loony fan, I just have a comic shop, and some of my customers are-”

“Loony fans?” Melissa asks with a lopsided grin. “That's very nice of you to offer. But I think I’ll pass.”

“The Thunderbolts have action figures now?” Genis asks.

“Oh no, the line was discontinued after... well, after Norman Osborn blew up—metaphorically, I mean,” Marlo explains. “And it's not likely they will get a new line anytime soon, since after the whole thing went sideways, is it?”

“Not very likely, no,” Melissa says.

“You're all talking about this like it's ancient past, or something,” Genis says.

“Not exactly ancient past,” Melissa says. “But I work for SHIELD now. Everything else is all very top-secret SHIELD stuff.” 

“And... the other Thunderbolts?” Genis asks.

“Well... Joystick betrayed the team, was imprisoned, escaped and is missing.” Melissa is frowning slightly as she counts with her fingers. “Swordsman managed to retire and start a civilian life. Donnie turned out to be an Inhuman and is living in New Attilan. And Dr. Chen Lu is back in China,” Melissa answers. She frowns slightly. “There were some new ones, but... well...” She shrugs, her expression turning a bit helpless. “It's not like everyone can turn over a new leaf and everything.”

Which seems like the opening to ask about Genis, Marlo decides.

“So, what exactly happened to you?” she asks. Genis looks decidedly uncomfortable with the question. “Or is that top-secret super hero business too?”

“No, it's just unpleasant,” he says.

“Oh, then consider this question not asked,” Marlo says quickly and decides to change the subject. “Can we sit down somewhere? Did you know there was a Skrull invasion not long ago?”


	31. Day 7, Part 2: It’s the dream afraid of waking, that never takes the chance

Rick found his maturity somewhere around Central Park. It was quite the embarrassing reunion, at least for him. Proving that certain traits are practically super villains, it clobbered him with the fact that he'd eventually have to talk with Marlo and admit to being stupid, and the more he waited the sillier he would look.

So there he was, in the Baxter Building, having already endured a conversation over phone which boiled down to 'we have to talk in person'.

“-and I still don't understand how Karla stopped herself from murdering Osborn right there, right then,” he hears Melissa Gold say, as he peeks inside Genis's room carefully. Marlo is sitting with her back turned to him, but Genis is facing the door and ruins his chances of sneaking in by giving him the most unimpressed look ever.

Which means Songbird looks at him, and so does Marlo, and Rick freezes like a startled deer. “I... uh... bought cake. With chocolate. And um... things.” Then, realizing that Marlo might be on a diet and he could have forgotten, he adds, “It's vegan!”

Vegan means it's healthy, right? It's made of plants and those are healthy. And it's totally not like he rushed into the first best coffee shop and it turned out to be a hipster vegan fair-trade thing.

“I accept your peace offering husband,” Marlo says solemnly. “Now, let's go find a kitchen—can you eat cake, Genis?”

Rick wonders if there's any point in asking Genis this, since things Genis thinks he can eat include roasted space bugs from a skewer. 

 

* * *

 

 

In front of the door, Marlo turns right and leads him to a small tea kitchen for the guest wing. Apparently, she asked for directions beforehand. Rick tries to strike up a nonchalant pose against the counter and knows he fails abysmally.

Marlo turns around to face him, her arms crossed before her ample chest, while she taps the ground with her left foot. He looks at her with apprehension when she suddenly starts to laugh. “Really, can you look some more like a puppy in a hurricane? I feel like PETA will gun for me this instant if I chew you out now.”

Although Rick is glad to be spared a round of drama, the comparison is not exactly flattering. “Can you take me serious, just a bit?” he moans. “I feel like I’m the butt of every joke in this building.”

“You behave like it?” She takes out a plate and motions for Rick to put the cake on it, while she looks for smaller ones. Rick manoeuvres with it some difficulty, and heroically manages to drop it on the plate instead of the counter.

“I get hit every time I try being brave?” he says, having accomplished his titanic task.

Marlo puts a few smaller plates down, and turns to him.

“You aren’t brave, husband, you are stupid. There’s a difference.” Marlo sighs, and becomes somewhat more serious. “Just why didn’t you tell me that Genis is here and that you went to see him? I spent a lot of time with the kid. I might have wanted to meet him, too.”

Rick nods. “Sorry, it was thoughtless of me. First, when I told you he’s back, I didn’t know where he was, either. And when Captain Marvel came to fetch me… Well, a lot happened then. I forgot to inform you.” One didn’t see a ghost every day. Never mind the ghost of one’s almost oldest and best friend who… Rick swallows, and starts looking for a knife to cut the cake with. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“Yes, you should not. You know that it always comes out. Always.” Marlo eyes him carefully, as he fishes cutlery out of one of the numerous drawers. “There’s something else you are not telling me. Out with it. You might get back into my good graces soon-ish, but not if you keep things from me I should know.”

Rick takes a deep breath. “Alright… Yes, there is something…” 

 

* * *

 

 

Genis sits back down on the couch, while Carol Danvers fusses over Chewie. The flerken stubbornly refuses to leave her arms, and does her best to look pathetic and sad, and cuddly.

“What are you afraid of?” Carol sighs, as she continues stroking Chewie's head. “Maybe it’s something about her perfume that set her off?”

Genis can only shrug, while Melissa shakes her head.

“Well, it would be easier if she could talk,” Carol says.

Chewie gives her a very offended look. “Yeah, I get it. You can talk, I’m just too stupid to understand.”

Melissa starts giggling. “Space cats are not very different from regular cats, it seems.”

Still lacking anything to contribute to the conversation, Genis looks at the box of chocolates, and suddenly Melissa's head is next to his, so Genis opens the box and offers her some.

Then, he lets Carol Danvers pick, and finally eats one too.

Chocolate is definitely one of the better inventions humanity made.

“Did anyone figure out how to send messages to people in space?” Melissa asks. “That get to them before they're back on Earth, I mean and won't get you in trouble for sending private e-mails at work.”

“The Kree, the Skrulls, Shi'ar...” Carol Danvers replies. “If you're lucky, you might meet Lila Cheney and rope her into delivering something.” She pauses. “Tony reverse-engineered a long distance holo-projector he has from the Guardians...” She stops talking for another moment, rubbing her chin. “Reed probably also came up with something by now. Or several somethings. The Inhumans could have one too.”

Melissa nods. “I... guess I will ask Mr Fantastic if he doesn't mind if I visit and use something?”

“If I don't manage to convince someone you're a vital part of my mission,” Carol says and pats Melissa's shoulder.

And then, Carol's phone rings. She gives the display a look usually reserved on biting something bitter and unpleasant, and marches out of the room.

Melissa and Genis look at one another. Then, something occurs to him.

“Your costume looks different—the bird kind of looks like the Phoenix,” he says.

Melissa frowns. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Well, did you suddenly develop fire-of-life powers?” Genis asks. “If you did, the Shi'ar may get a tiny bit panicky.”

Melissa arches her eyebrows and shakes her head. “No new powers here. I have just been tweaking the design every few years, and this is what came out with the last redesign. I didn’t aim for the Phoenix impression, but I guess it was only a matter of time until the bird shape was similar to it.”

“It looks really cool,” Genis says giving it an inspecting look.

“And is exactly in the right place, huh?” Melissa giggles.

“Oh. Well. It would look nice on your back too?” Genis replies, feeling slightly awkward now. It's not exactly his fault, now, is it? The design draws the eye there.

“It’s OK,” she grins at him and leans in to kiss him. “Just teasing.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes, Abigail Brand is a pain, but given that she is Carol's second in command, she might have something to say about Carol's newest plans for outer space voyages, so Carol rushes out of the room, and takes the call as soon as she is in the hall and can talk in private.

It takes her ten seconds to find out this will be a case of Agent Brand being a royal pain.

“Look, if you managed to forget that bastard tried to kill me just a while ago,” she growls. “And before that, he used me as bait, and nearly got me killed.”

“You're heading in the right direction,” Abigail replies matter-of-factly.

“And what if I have to throw him out of the airlock?” Carol says, trying to find a reason to evade this. “And it will inevitably happen, because Yon-Rogg is a nutjob with a hateboner for anyone related in any way to Mar-Vell, and that will include me and the two other people with me.”

“Then you will inform the Kree he regretfully committed suicide,” Agent Brand answers without missing a beat. “And it would likely be appreciated if you saved enough of him to verify his death. But hey, if you think you can leave a violent Kree terrorist, whom the Supreme Intelligence wants extradited, because you intend to sneak out a Kree violating his own exile...”

“They won't trade... one for the other,” Carol says with as much patience as she can muster. “It's like trading an iPad for a broken gameboy.”

“Yes, but you will have a nice plausible reason to be in Kree space,” Abigail answers reasonably. Too reasonably.

Carol mutters a few choice curses under her breath, before saying, “Fine. At least tell your scientists to put him in stasis, or drug him or something.”

Then, she ends the conversation and sighs heavily.

And obviously, karma is striking right back, because the phone immediately rings again. Since telling her second – who only didn’t end up her commander because she refused – to hang herself is violating military protocol, she answers: “Yes?”

Abigail Brand continues, as if their communication was never interrupted: “On the subject of family members, I have a very snotty blue Kree here who apparently is Yon-Rogg’s daughter. And while she only gave very evasive answers on why she tried to sneak to Earth, according to her search history, she is very interested in Genis-Vell. Since I don’t know what to do with her, why don’t you ask the boy about her? She committed no crime and was apparently exiled by the Kree, too – that has to be in fashion – so I can’t send her back.”

Carol frowns. “Sure, I’ll ask him.”

  

* * *

 

 

Genis actually takes the news better than Carol expects. “Una? She is OK?” He seems actually glad. Well, it is entirely possible that she didn't inherit Yon-Rogg's charm.

“You know her?” Carol rubs her temples. This is getting weirder by the minute.

“She tried to kill me once. But we sort of resolved that. She helped me save Rick. And I guess I owe her. Also, Marlo will be glad, too.”

Which sounds fair enough, Carol supposes. Tony gets along with Clint and Tasha, she and Rogue are... civil to each other, so by now she really ought to be prepared that anyone who has tried being a superhero for longer than a week, has at least one acquaintance who had tried to kill them before moving to the 'invite for weekend grill' category.

“So, what should we do with her?” Carol asks. “I mean, she seems to be here because of you specifically, but didn't say so—just googled you.”

Genis frowns. “Well, if she wants to meet me, then she can come—then I'll ask her if she wants to stay on Earth, or if she will be going back to... wherever she's been.”

Carol chews on her lip, as she thinks. According to Abigail, the woman is just a blue Kree. No special powers, and they wouldn't send her with any weapons. So, if she does get ideas, it's not like Carol or Melissa can't overpower her quickly.

“That sounds pretty reasonable,” Melissa says. “We could probably give her a lift?”

This is definitely not Carol’s day. Two conversations with Abigail Brand in a day rank only a little bit beneath an alien invasion or an ear infection. She's not even going to mention her ever-growing passenger list.

“Alright, I’ll bite.”


	32. Day 7, Part 3: Its the one who won't be taking, who cannot seem to give

Abigail is cautious. True, according to Danvers the other male progeny of Mar-Vell does know the Kree woman and claims she no longer wants to kill him. But appearances can be deceiving, and she knows just how much overkill Genis-Vell is. So, in the interest of there being no accidents of the angry energy-blasting alien destroying half of New York, she takes it upon herself to verify certain things one more time.

“You have been researching Captains Marvel a lot, for someone who claims not to intend to follow their father's vendetta,” she says.

The Kree does the “I am Kree and Better Than You” look and answers, “I knew Genis-Vell personally. Since I'm almost on Earth and he was here often, I wanted to know what happened to him. Surely, that is not equal to wanting to murder the legacy of a long dead...” She pauses, and Abigail can bet that she is biting back some slur, because Kree are charming like that. “Soldier.”

“I see,” Abigail says.

“Besides, he is dead, isn't he?” the Kree replies. “So, even if you had been right, and I had wanted to enact some sort of vengeance, I'd have no chance.”

“And, theoretically speaking, if he had been alive, what would have been your intentions?” Abigail asks.

The Kree gives her a suspicious look. “That... depends. On Genis-Vell. If he'd like to meet with me or not.”

Abigail studies the woman, who now appears to be growing uncomfortable. Well, that is to be expected—she is being questioned and _everyone_ has something to hide. Still, the answer seems to indicate that she should—not trust, no—but assume for now that New York might not be in danger if she does send that particular Kree to Earth.

“Well, then I have good news for you,” she says. “It turns out he is not dead and does want to see you.”

Una-rogg stares at her completely dumb-founded and doesn't manage to find her voice for the remainder of the conversation. Not even when a guard escorts her out. 

 

* * *

 

 

Una spends her trip down to Earth in a daze. Of course, she is aware that some people do come back to life, or that people are reported as dead, when in truth they are trapped or lost. Nevertheless, there was something deeply unnerving about how the green-haired human informed her of it.

Still, in general, she is quite pleased. She has come to like Genis-Vell.

So, she doesn't even resent being escorted to some human building and into one of the million rooms. Well, that is until she enters the room. Genis-Vell is there, quite alive, though looking like he's recovering after some illness. That's... not fine, but something she can deal with.

Then, there is a woman with pink and white hair, who arches her eyebrows and watches Una like an exotic animal. The other one though... At first she just wonders what a pink is doing on Earth, and then she registers why she thinks of the woman as pink Kree and not human. Because this is the new Captain Marvel.

Beneath the spike of panic, Una notes that the woman does bear some resemblance to Mar-Vell. Just enough that it could be simple coincidence, but then Genis does not look like his father all that much either.

And then, she is given a hug by the human woman who hit her with the metal box back when she and Zey had tried to kill Genis-Vell. Which she supposes is an improvement over metal boxes, but is still something of an unexpected development.

“Unhand me,” she says firmly, in case anyone suspects she might actually be happy to get a hug from a human.

“Wow, charming,” the younger human woman with the white and pink hair says dryly. “So, why exactly did you want to see her?”

Genis-Vell grins and ruins everything by opening his mouth, “Because she's sort of like this Earth animal with needles. The small one.”

“Hedgehog?” Captain Marvel guesses. She eyes Una for a moment, and shrugs. “I can deal with hedgehogs.”

“I am not like any Earth animal,” Una says.

“Do you want to tell her she'd be more convincing, if she weren't hugging Marlo back?” the younger woman asks Genis-Vell.

“Shush, be polite and pretend you didn't notice, Melissa,” the older woman says, as she crosses her arms over her chest and starts to smirk.

  

* * *

 

 

Genis sits on the couch, and watches Marlo, Una, Carol and occasionally Melissa discuss shopping. Apparently, they intend to take the Kree to the city to get her some other things to wear. He could see the wisdom of that, guessing from Rick’s rather desperate attempts to not look at her that she really was very distracting even without her powers.

The sound of their voices washes over him in a soothing way, even though he doesn’t understand even half of what they are saying. It is the sound of life, he thinks as opposed to the sounds of battle and death and desolation that he knows so well.

Melissa touches his cheek. “You should lie down. You look tired.”

He almost starts, so entranced was he by the soft mumble of voices and the purring of the flerken which has finally come out from under the couch.

He nods, and gets up. Suddenly, the room starts to turn, but it’s just a few steps to the bed, and he will manage. One step, and another, and another. His vision focuses on his pillow, darkness encroaching. He collapses more than he lies down, only peripherally aware of Melissa reaching for him and evading her

His thoughts tumble loose, without focus, as he curls up. There’s only darkness around him, although he is marginally aware of voices which take up an alarmed tone. A blanket is pulled over him and a warm weight settles against his hip, but it’s Una who actually manages to turn away some of the encroaching shadows, allowing him to focus on something beyond the cramping and shaking of his muscles.

The Kree woman kneels before his bed and looks right into his face. “Who’s the hedgehog now, silly?” she says, with a strained smile while her eyes are actually wide with astonishment. He tries to smile back and answer, but he is not sure she hears him. “I’m not.” In a very uncharacteristic move, she reaches out and touches his cheek. “You are.” Her fingers are cold. He wants to tell her she really needs to wear better clothes, but his eyes drop shut and he drifts off. Or maybe passes out, and the darkness takes him. He floats, until he becomes aware he is being held up by insubstantial hands.

“You are not alone”, his father says, as he carries Genis from the abyss. “Look.” Underneath them, Genis can see himself lying on his bed, a lot of people clustered around him. They all look worried. There’s Melissa, and Rick and Marlo, even Carol Danvers and Una and the Richards'. And the flerken is nestled up to him, glaring at everyone who might try to remove it.

“Am I dead?” This reminds him of what he heard about dying. Except, he is not sure he even can die. The image fades, as the darkness slowly is brightening.

“No”, Mar-Vell says. “You are asleep. You exhausted yourself.” He gently sets Genis down on a log, overlooking a green meadow and sits down beside him, a hand around his shoulders. The place seems familiar, but Genis doesn’t recognise it. 

This is when he notes that his father is not wearing the familiar red costume but a green and white one.

“Change of wardrobe?” he asks.

“A sign that my time as a spirit grows short.” Mar-Vell is very serious. “This is what they dressed me in when they temporarily brought me back on Hala. Very soon, I will have to go.”

“No!” Genis clenches his jaw shut, trying to get back this childish sentiment.

His father does not chide him, just hugs him fiercely. “I will be back soon. Very soon. Beyond those snatched moments and stolen dreams.”

Genis nods. He knows this and accepts it, but the fear is so very deep. His father kisses him on the forehead, a gesture of blessing and farewell. That’s when Genis notices the strain that Mar-Vell hides behind his smile.

“It’s alright. I understand. Don’t fight it. We will come and find you, no matter what.” He finally releases his father and takes a deep breath. “I promise.”

“Take of yourself, Genis. You are not alone”, Mar-Vell repeats. “There are other people who care for you, who love you.”

Genis nods. He thinks of those people he saw in the vision. “I know.” And he does. It’s just hard to accept after all this time. But it can’t be harder than coming back from being more or less dead, right? “I promise. I’ll try not to be stupid again.”

His father is faint now, translucent, but he smiles. “So will I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might want to look at Interlude: Moondragon--there will be relelvant stuff happening there now.


	33. Day 7, Part 4: The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky / Are also on the faces of people going by

Reed Richards takes several readings and says that there is nothing to be worried about. “Genis is simply exhausted. He is still reconvalescent and there was too much excitement today. He will be fine when he wakes, provided he is not disturbed.” He looks at the gathered crowd. “Someone should stay with him though; in case he dreams.”

Melissa and Rick volunteer to stay, and Chewie refuses to budge from Genis, so Carol decides to go shopping with Marlo and the Kree woman.

Mar-Vell will need new clothes as well, and she can at least make an educated guess of what size he wears. That should be enough for jeans and T-shirts. She mentions this to Sue Richards.

“Then perhaps you could get some for Genis, too?” the Invisible Woman says, somewhat embarrassed. “I think he might feel a bit uncomfortable once he finds out those he wears now belong to Namor.”

Carol thinks of the clothes, and stares. She tries to reconcile the rather inoffensive shirts and trousers with the usual bare-chestedness and the recent trousers that make her wonder about the blood circulation in the Atlanteans legs. And not just legs.

A while ago she wondered if he and Medusa shop in the same place. Back then, both managed to reach the same level of “more naked than actually naked” at times.

“They are very... ah...” Carol starts to say and fails to find the right word.

“He keeps them with me in case he wants to visit the surface and not draw attention,” Sue explains. Then, she adds defensively, “It happens.”

“Okay,” Carol says.

Yes, she is definitely getting things for Genis, lest she subjects the world to the sight of Namor shopping for blending-in surface clothes. 

 

* * *

 

 

Una draws gazes that somehow have absolutely nothing to do with her being blue. She ignores them in a way that makes Carol think of Emma Frost. The Kree is not as good as the telepath, but then Carol doesn't think one can easily acquire that kind of skill. It probably takes years of wearing clothes that require being glued to one's body. And knowing every dirty secret of those looking probably helps with maintaining that level of disdain.

The disdain seems to melt once they are inside a shop, and she can pick whatever she likes. It seems that it's mostly leggings. Jeans also meet Una's approval, and a few pullovers. In fact, those appear to be fascinating to the Kree woman.

“What is this made of?” she asks. “It feels strange.”

“Wool,” Carol explains. “There are some species of animals that have fur you can make textile fibers out of.”

The Kree woman inspects the garment for another moment. She doesn't appear to find it repulsive now—her expression is actually fascinated.

“How quaint,” she says. “And you... just wear it? You don't have to kill them to prove you are worthy of wearing it?”

Carol face-palms, while Marlo seems to divert her attention to something else. Possibly because being faced with the Kree approach to cross-cultural sensitivity is an experience that is about as fun as a visit to the dentist.

“No, because if you kill them, you wouldn't be able to shave them again because their fur would stop growing,” Carol explains.

Una nods. “Oh, that's pretty smart. I suppose. I mean, if you absolutely have to waste space you could be using for something more useful than growing animals.”

At least she's not Ronan, Carol thinks. Ronan would say about the same things, only his voice carries. And then he'd probably end up brawling the local Burger Lovers club...

Fortunately, Marlo returns with more clothes for Una to try on, and they can take a break from the exercise in Kree superiority.

“Why would I want to wear a robe?” she asks, inspecting a dress Marlo has picked. “I'm not an official.”

“Kree don't wear dresses?” Marlo asks.

Carol shrugs. “Didn't seen any wearing one.”

“Robes are a hassle,” Una says, wrinkling her nose.

“You're wearing heels that are at least six inches,” Carol says drily.

“So does she,” Una replies indicating Marlo. “It's not like I'm planning to get into fights or anything.”

Plus, Carol can say from experience that Kree tendons are much more resistant than human ones. It's still not exactly the smartest move to try fighting in high heels unless one is at her level of indestructibility, but a Kree woman does have a slightly higher chance of not twisting her ankle.

Like, maybe two kicks instead of one.

Anyway, given that there seem to be no snags, Carol decides it's time for her to do her part.

“I need so get some other stuff,” she says. “I'll meet you in an hour?” 

 

* * *

 

 

Finally, Marlo is satisfied that Una is in possession of an adequate wardrobe. Though Una will never say it out loud, she actually did enjoy herself.

She's also starting to see why everyone wants to invade Earth. This dark cake called a brownie is something to fight wars over. Well, provided that one does not kill all those who can make it.

“So, how've you been?” Marlo asks.

“Fine,” Una replies, shrugging. “You?”

Which proves to be something of a lesson about Earth being completely insane. Apparently, completely normal people, who on Kree-Lar, or Hala, or any other Kree world would have seen an alien invasion maybe thrice in their lifetime, on Earth end up gaining super powers several times, and seeing those three invasions in three years.

Her expression must be telling, because Marlo adds hastily, “I'm not typical—Rick's been involved with all sorts of super-types over the years.”

“I was almost engaged to the Supreme Public Accuser,” Una says. “And I only ended up in trouble after I came to Earth.”

“Are you seeing anyone now?” Marlo asks.

“No,” Una replies, and shrugs. “I'm not really anything close to an interesting partner anymore. My father and brother both managed to disgrace themselves, and I'm damned by association. Not to mention an exile.” At least she's quite sure that's not because she's on Ronan's list of people he heartily dislikes, because that's most of the universe.

“Jerks,” Marlo says firmly.

“I don't care,” Una says with a shrug. “If they're afraid, then I don't want them anyway.”

Marlo nods and gives her an approving look. It's actually quite nice to have someone think she is doing something right, and she feels her mouth twitch upwards.

“So, what are you planning to do in the future?” Marlo asks.

Una thinks she'd rather complain a bit more about other Kree than admit she isn't sure. “I don’t know. I hadn't expected everything to happen so quickly.”

Marlo “hmms” and then grins, “You could stay on Earth?”

Una tries to imagine her convincing the green-haired woman from orbital station, and her imagination is only happy to supply a vision of desolation.

“Earth doesn't get invaded that often!” Marlo protests, unaware of what Una is thinking. Not that it's not a good point—three times in three years is a bit much.

“I'm Kree,” she says haughtily nevertheless. “I can take care of myself.”

Marlo grins. “You do that really well.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Home after shopping, Carol gets around to packing for a space journey.  Fortunately, packing is like riding a bike. Once you learn to do it efficiently and quickly you are not likely to forget how to do it. So, she doesn't really mind that Kit is sitting on her bed and watching her fold things into her bag. Besides, if the kid learns how to pack now, she will have one more skill for life mastered.

“I will tell Jessica to come and visit, and make sure everything is okay,” she tells the girl. “So, if you notice anything suspicious, you should tell your mom, and if that's not an option, call Jessica.”

Kit nods. “Mhm.”

Carol doesn't press—Marina will be also reinforcing this, and she isn't Kit's mother. Hopefully, Mystique will remain busy with whatever thing she is busy right now, and won't decide it's “Kill People Carol Danvers Likes” month. And given that it’s been a while since Mystique remembered her existence she probably won’t risk running afoul of Alpha Flight just for vengeance.

“I should be back much sooner than the last time,” she adds. “Mar-Vell is sensible, so he will stay put, and I won't have to look for him all over the Kree galaxy.”

She isn't nearly as sure as she sounds, because, well, Kree. There's really nothing to be said about them and sense, other than they continued to antagonise Black Bolt and Gladiator for years.

“Don't worry, you're going to save your ghost friend,” Kit states, swinging her legs.

“Well, hopefully, he won't need saving,” Carol says. “And I will just go and bring him to Earth. But he won't be a ghost anymore then.”

Kit takes that in her stride, though Carol starts suspecting that with all the people coming back to life, one might just decide that it's just something that happens.

“Will he move in with you?” Kit asks.

Carol stops packing for a moment. Will he? She wouldn't mind at all, though she probably should at least tell Marina. And there's Genis to consider.

“I don't know yet,” she says. “His son is... hurt, and he will want to be with him, but I don't know if Genis will want to move in here too.”

Kit frowns, puzzled. “But why would he mind? We could play together.”

Carol blinks and then realises that she never did explain the complicated issue of Genis's age.

“Genis—Mar-Vell's son—is an adult,” she says. “His mother aged him artificially just after he was born.”

Kit frowns as she thinks this through. “So, he is grown-up and he never… I don’t know, played hide and seek, did a blast bomb into a swimming pool or played with dolls? He’s just suddenly grown-up and needs a job and to worry about boring adult things?”

Carol nods. Although she is fighting a smile at Kit’s very refreshing perspective, she cannot fault her thinking. Childhood is so much more than just a learning stage for skills.

Kit sighs heavily. “That is bad. But I guess I will just have to help him catch up on all the things he missed because of that.”

While Carol is glad that Kit is so willing to accept things, she still adds, “And your mother might not be happy about a horde of alien men running around here.”

“Two is not a horde,” Marina observes, as she enters the room. “And I remember the first Captain Marvel, you know? I attended his vigil several times when I was in college.”

Seeing Carol’s nonplussed expression, she explains. “When it was announced that he was dying, people held vigils all over the place. They’d gather and light candles and pray if so inclined. Or just talk and sit together. There was a big one in Central Park for weeks. I went there several times.” She hesitates. “I was actually there the night he died.”

Marina wipes her eyes. “He was much more than just a super hero. Like Captain America.”

Kit – with the sixth sense of children knowing somebody is sad – snuggles up to her mother. “But now he’s coming back”, she said. “Also, he was not sad when he was here. He made a joke.”

Marina strokes her head. “He did?”

Kit nods. She thinks about the whole thing, while Carol continues packing. After a while, the girl says, “Isn’t Janice a girl’s name?”


	34. Day 7, Part 5: Don't walk away, don't walk away, oh / When the heart is yearning

Carol doesn’t like to call in favours. She doesn’t like to get special treatment because she has saved people’s lives or because they have been friends. But there are moments were being all stuck up and correct just isn’t going to cut it, and such a moment has arrived.

She can’t keep Genis from coming with her and finding his father. And taking him and leaving Melissa behind would just be cruel. So, she calls Steve Rogers and asks for a favour.

“Ms Gold?” Steve says, once Carol explains her problem. “I see no reason not to send her with you.  There might be several other operatives I could spare if need arises.”

“And if the Kree notice am I to tell them we're all on our annual leave to experience their famous hospitality?” Carol asks.

“I don't mean to send anyone too conspicuous with you,” Steve answers. “They are... occupied now, but if you need help, they can be redirected.”

Carol blinks. This is very careful wording there. Clearly, this is not the case of Steve wanting to send half of the current roster of the Avengers, Unity Squad and whatever else he can get his hands on with her.

It's a very clear, very obvious Do Not Ask. And Carol, having been both in military and secret services takes a hint and does not ask.

“I'll keep this in mind,” she says. “Will you inform Ms. Gold that she will get leave to come with us or should I do it?” 

 

* * *

 

 

Melissa sits at Genis’s side and watches Rick go through her notes and flash cards. Apparently, privacy is not a concept he is aware of. She sighs.

If she is honest, she dreads having to say goodbye to Genis – it’s more than merely being protective. She knows that she has become something of a safety net for him and that losing this and being on his own, even with a familiar face like Rick Jones around him, will cause him stress and probably even anguish. And more than anything, she wants to spare him any further pain.

Since there is nothing she can do about this, she decides to address one concern she can do something about it. If she is just sitting her, worrying, she might as well do something productive.

“If you want to be nosy, why don’t you make yourself useful and quiz me on the dates on the purple cards? I’m behind in my US history lessons anyway.”

Rick looks up, startled. “Won’t we wake him? Also, I might not be the right person. If you ask me when the Declaration of Independence was signed, I’ll ask if that isn’t a city in California.”

Carol clearly has a bad influence on her, or maybe she picked that up from Karla by osmosis at some point. At least, the exaggeratedly patient sigh that sneaks from her throat isn’t really a natural reaction for her. She thinks. „You heard Mr. Richards, Genis will sleep for at least twelve more hours.” She reaches over and gently pushes back his hair from his face. He doesn’t stir, but for a moment seems to smile.

“And the answers are on the cards. Upside down.”

“Alright, alright. I should manage that. Just not getting why you are even bothering, it’s just useless trivia.” Rick picks up the purple cards from the couch and shuffles them with practiced ease. „It’s not like you need to get into college, anyway. I mean look at me—or Hawkeye, or a number of other people. You'll just be wasting money and time.”

For a moment Melissa considers explaining herself to him, about the wish to regain something that she has lost, that has been taken from her. And her desire to make it on her own, without favours given. But with Rick’s attitude, it’s probably wasted. „Because I want to. Now, just ask me, ok?”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Sure.” Picking the topmost card, he reads: “What are the reasons for the repeal of the Eighteenth Amendment?”

Melissa launches into an explanation of the reasons for the failure of Prohibition, the confused tangle of economic issues and the reluctance to enforce it, when her phone rings.

It’s a number she doesn’t know, although clearly, it’s a SHIELD connection. “Gold here.”

A cultured male voice with an accent nobody has used for 70 years answers: “This is Steve Rogers.”

“Sir!”

“How are you?” the former Captain America, and current Director of SHIELD asks. Melissa is starting to feel a little overwhelmed. She did talk to him before, but back then she wasn’t disgraced and he wasn’t her boss.

“Fine, thank you, sir,” she replies, mostly on reflex. Should she ask him the same? Or would that be rude? Or would not asking be rude? “How- how are you, sir?”

“Fine as well, thank you,” Steve Rogers replies. “I've talked with Captain Marvel not long ago, and we decided that you should accompany her. I will send some supplies you should take, along with instructions to your current home address. Is that alright?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Melissa manages, sitting down bonelessly on the nearest surface suitable for sitting. She listens on as he tells her that she does get paid leave to accompany Genis on his journey. She tries to manage a coherent thank you which is a lot harder than she thought, but he breaks connection before she can start babbling and fight off the urge to cry in relief.

“Um... I'll er... Should I go be awkward somewhere else?” Rick Jones asks. 

 

* * *

 

 

Rick eventually decides to call Marlo. Sure, she agreed that he should go to bring back Mar-Vell, but he figures a bit of groveling might not be amiss. Maybe a lot of groveling, even.

“Hey Marlo,” he says. “I was… uh… thinking of you. Maybe we should go on a date? Since I’m leaving tomorrow and won’t see you for some time.”

That should be good, right? Dates are nice and make women feel appreciated, don’t they?

“Since you offered, I won’t say no,” Marlo replies. “But I’m a bit insulted you think I need to be appeased after I told you you should go.”

And here is the story of his life: he tried, and it went sideways. Really, it’d have been nice to know when he doesn’t need to worry that something is going to bite his head off. Maybe there is something to the whole talk about nearly everyone needing counselling. It might not help with him being in permanent danger, but it might help him accept it, at least and not look for it where there is none.

“Sorry about that,” he says sheepishly. “Space-travel makes me nervous. You know, all those Kree and Skrulls, and their nefarious plans.”

“Genis and Captain Marvel can protect you,” Marlo points out reasonably. “Just try not to do anything stupid.”

“I try to do that all the time,” Rick moans. “But it just comes out naturally. I’m negatively talented.”

Marlo sighs. It’s a long heavy sigh. “You’re being just being negative now, Rick. You’re no worse than any of the super heroes you associate with.”

“I’m going to blame nerves,” Rick says. “And myself not being a teen anymore and being aware of my own mortality.”

Marlo snorts. “That’s probably a reasonable thing to blame.”

“I mean, space travel is kinda boring most of the time,” he says after a moment. Mostly to convince himself. “Or so Marv claimed. You sit in a metal box and go from point A to B, and alien cards.”

“Say, how about we go and pick some games and such, you can take along tomorrow, then?” Marlo asks. “So that you’re not bored?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you might want to read Interlude: Moondragon now. There's a thing happening there! And important thing!


	35. Day 8, Part 1: Forget the fear it's just a crutch / That tries to hold you back / And turn your dreams to dust / All you need to do is just trust

Genis wakes up somewhat abruptly, but he isn't sure why. He just suddenly is awake. Chewie is still lying on him, and there's someone on the chair nearby.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Carol Danvers says and grins at him. And because she must have seen the surprise on Genis’s face, she adds: “Melissa had to go home and pack, and Rick needed to make sure his wife is not feeling neglected. And Una is changing into her new clothes.”

Slowly, he sits up, and rubs his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was glad they were all here, and I forgot all of you have your own lives, and I’m keeping you from them, because I…”

“Shush.” She raises her hand. “Everybody who came here did because they wanted to. If they think using their time to be with you is worth it, don’t contradict them.”

It seems rather logical, although he is also familiar with people telling him what a chore it is to be in his presence and deal with him. “Even Rick?” he asks.

“Even Rick Jones. After he stopped running away from his conscience. Actually, especially Rick Jones. And Una came all the way from deep space to find out what happened to you.”

“She did?” Someone said something like that, but it has not yet sunk in. “She came to find me?”

“You must have made an impression,” Carol says with a smile. 

Genis frowns as he thinks this through. Then a sentence passes his ear to brain filter and he gasps: “Why does Melissa have to pack?”

“Because she did get leave to come with us and collect your father.” Carol smiles at him. It looks quite self-satisfied.

Having one of his rare flashes of insight, the words “You did that” pop out of his mouth before he can evaluate if they sound too accusatory.

She grins. “Guilty as charged. Occasionally, having collected a million favours from pretty much everyone in the hero business comes in handy.”

“Thanks…” His voice has turned rather hoarse and to his embarrassment he feels his eyes grow a bit moist, but Carol pretends not to notice.

“How was the shopping trip?” he asks by way of changing the topic, once he is certain he won’t say anything too sappy. That's what they were planning to do before he'd fallen asleep, wasn't it? And Una apparently has new clothes, so they must have finished.

“Interesting,” Carol Danvers replies. “Your friend now has clothes. I also got some for you and your father.”

Genis nods. “Thank you.” He hesitates for a moment, before gathering his sometimes very challenged sense of tact and asks: “What should I call you?”

“How about Carol? Since this is my name.” But the woman grins, so apparently there’s no barb intended.

He sits up gingerly and realises he is actually hungry. As he wonders if there is any chocolate left, he remembers the dream. He isn't sure if his father did manage to tell Carol anything—maybe not, so he probably should instead.

“I think my father's alive now,” he says. “Or will be very soon. When will we leave?”

“As soon as everything is packed. So you do have time to get something to eat.” Seeing his expression, Carol grins. “I might no longer have my seventh sense, but I have ears. And your stomach is growling.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Una is just pulling on a tunic that ends at her mid-thigh and is a very bright shade of yellow—and contrasts very nicely with her skin—when she notices a little girl giving her the kind of look one usually gives a specimen about to be dissected. She is not used to that. Most little girls she had met would either stare at her hair or ignore her in favour of whatever food or toys they were holding.

Surely, human children are not that different from Kree ones?

“How many teeth do you have?” the girl asks. Or perhaps they are. That sounds far too coherent for a child that young.

Una glares at her and replies, “Enough to bite off your finger.”

“Why is everyone being so difficult?” the child says with a world-weariness befitting an ancient crone. “It's not a complicated question—are teeth some sort of a Kree taboo?”

“No,” Una replies. “They're not. Why do you want to know?”

“Because Kree tend to have a larger mandible than humans,” the girl explains. “Which means they have more space, and that means there need it for something. Like teeth.”

Una weighs her option. She can point out that this is completely irrelevant and try shooing the little girl out, but she doubts there is any way of doing that and not looking undignified. Because of a child who is too young to tie her own shoe-laces. Or she can answer, and likely the little nuisance will go to play with whatever it is little humans play with.

“Thirty-two,” Una says. “Most Kree have thirty-two.”

The girl does not appear satisfied. “Do you normally eat very unprocessed food? Or food that is very hard to chew?”

Una realises then she had made a mistake. She should not have answered, because now she is the prey to be relentlessly questioned about every single irreverent bit of knowledge regarding Kree and teeth she might have.

There is only one way to escape.

She grabs the child, puts her outside of the door, and finds out she had no idea how to hack it and seal it shut. It hisses open a moment later, and the little girl gives her the most unimpressed look Una had ever been subjected to, even counting the green-haired woman on the space station.

Why does anyone want to even have children?

“You're being silly,” the girl informs her.

“You are being silly, Valeria,” a boy—Una would judge him to be ten, if he were Kree—says as he peeks inside.

“I am not, I'm researching,” the girl replies indignantly.

“You're bugging people,” the boy says. “Sorry about her, she's three and smarter than most adults, and it got to her head.”

He steers the little monster away from Una expertly, while the girl pouts and huffs denials. Una thanks all supernatural entities she knows that she has never been like that. 

 

* * *

 

 

Reed finds Genis in the kitchen, where Sue prepares breakfast for him. With the promise that it will not take long, he takes him to the lab. “Let us see how your recovery proceeds, shall we? Especially after your episode yesterday.” He shakes his head. “I would not have expected that, or I would have interfered sooner.”

“Does that mean I can’t come along?” Genis asks, his eyes wide.

“I need to take some readings before I can judge tha,t” he says and leads the young man to his lab, to take some more readings. 

Reed looks at Genis-vell, as he finishes the final examination. The results are satisfying—though the young man is not entirely recovered yet physically, he is going to be soon, if he does not do anything rash, which, apparently might be a bit harder than he thought. There doesn’t seem to be any damage from the collapse the day before.

“You want to go with the others on the ship, right?”

Genis nods. “If at all possible.”

Reeds eyes the monitors. “And if I say you need to recover and can’t engage in strenuous activity like a space journey?”

The young man looks down. “Then I will stay.”

The older man watches him skeptically.

“Honestly, if you say I can’t, then, no matter how much I want to, I won’t. I promised my father not to be stupid. And that would be.” He looks very earnest and determined.

Reed hmms noncommittally and finally disengages the scanners. “You should be fine in a few days. But you are young and healthy and strong and I see no reason to ground you provided you will take it easy and do the controlled exercises Wyatt gave you.”

Genis looks like he wants to jump up and yell in triumph, but he doesn’t. He merely grins. “Great!”

“That’s not all. When you are recovered, there will be no reason to keep blocking your abilities. But since you will be in space then, and I won't be there to disengage the device I constructed to block your powers.”

Genis nods, looking startlingly relieved. “That’s probably better. I'm going to be on a ship, and if... if I lose control over them, I might...” He pauses, and looks at his hands. “Everything is so very fragile.”

Reed thinks of his son, and wonders if he will ever feel like that. It's sometimes hard not to worry, if he and Sue are doing enough, or if one day something will prove too much, and Franklin and Valeria will be left alone.

He pushes the thoughts away—there are matters at hand to be dealt with.

“It may be that you will need your powers,” he says. “I will show you how to deactivate the dampener.”

Genis meets his gaze this time. He looks young, and lost, but eventually he nods one more time.

“Thank you,” he says. “For... for everything.”

Reed puts his hand on Genis's shoulder. “If you need help later, you can always turn to the Fantastic Four, Genis.”

Then, he points to the monitor on Genis's wrist, and starts to explain how to disengage it safely.


	36. Day 8, Part 2: A, B, C, D / Can I bring my friend to tea

By the time Genis returns to the kitchen he finds a plate with various sandwiches and fruits waiting for him. Una is also there, and is munching on some of them while apparently deep in thought. Given that it's Una, Genis decides to just sneak a plate away—although perhaps sneaking is too ambitious a prospect at the moment. The moment he reaches out, she looks up at him.

“Do you think you could take me somewhere, where I can find myself a ship?” she asks.

“I... don't know,” Genis says. “It's not my ship, and we're kind of on a schedule?”

“Well, Carol is your aunt, right?” Una asks. “Family sticks together and all that.”

Genis stares. Then, he stares some more, while trying to figure out how she'd arrive at that conclusion. Okay, so Carol has a similar power-set to him, and Phyla, and his father? And is blonde and blue-eyed, like his father.

“Uh... No?” he says.

“Sister? I thought the time-travel thing was far-fetched...” Una says.

“No, she's um... well, my father's current partner,” he says. Thankfully, Kree does have a gender-neutral term for “girl/boyfriend” which doesn't sound silly like the English one.

Una sits in silence for a while, a half-eaten pear in her hand.

“It's slightly weird, but erm... definitely not my aunt,” Genis says. “Or sister.” He needs a different subject to talk about, because this is getting awkward. “So... erm... I guess you could ask her? I mean- I think I like her—erm... Um, I mean, I think I'd be happy if she were my aunt, but- uh... I'm going to sound like I sound now when I talk with her.”

“And it's me, who wants a favour from her,” Una says. “You're right. I should do it on my own.”

She gets up and leaves, passing Susan Richards in the door. Genis, who thought he was starting to lose his blush, feels his cheeks go red again. That didn’t happen that often, when he had his powers active.

The Invisible Woman notes the gaze and raises her eyebrows. “Let me guess. Carol told you about the clothes.”

Genis nods and looks away. He isn't sure why he feels embarrassed about that, but he does.

Sue sighs with exaggerated weariness. “Chatterbox. They were new. Never worn. Better now?”

“Yeah. A bit. Sorry,” he says. Really, it's not like... Namor-ness is transmitted through clothes. He won't start yelling “Imperius Rex!” and spending most of his time in the ocean. No, he was definitely not getting near any oceans. 

 

* * *

 

 

Marlo corners Genis just outside of the kitchen. She gives him a rather large stack of magazines, which Genis examines doubtfully. The cover on top shows a man in black wielding a laser sword, whom he thinks he recognises from something Rick watched.

“I thought you might get bored,” she says. “Hopefully, there will be no danger on the journey and you might be bored, so I brought these. You can read them on your way. And if you don't like them, you can give them to Rick.”

Genis looks at the pile of comics and the lifts them higher to inspect the bottom of the stack, exposing the box on which she had piled the comics.

“Pandemic?” he reads.

“It's a board game,” Marlo explains. “You should have enough people for it.”

“Is that a game about sentient viruses competing against each other?” Genis asks. It's not a bad guess, given that there is a spinoff which is more or less exactly this.

Marlo giggles, and says, “No, you're playing experts trying to stop disease from becoming a pandemic,” she explains. “The players have to work with one another, and it's really fun.”

“I'll try to make sure it doesn't get eaten by anything,” Genis says smiling at her. “Or stolen by some crazy collector with an Earth fetish.”

“If it happens, we will just get a new one,” Marlo says with a shrug. “I like the game, but I'd rather you kept out of trouble then have you break something to keep it safe.”

Still, now she had to think about all the things that could happen and that she is not entirely happy about letting Rick go on his own. It's not that she thinks he will try anything stupid, but rather knows that where Rick goes trouble eventually finds its way. And Genis, as fond as she is of him, is a disaster magnet. Nevertheless, she can't go, and to be fair, she'd probably be another doom attractor.

“If everything goes well,” Genis says, “we should be back in two weeks, or roundaboutish.”

“You don't have to worry, I just don't like losing Rick out of my eye-sight for too long,” she says.

Genis gives her a helpless look. “I don't think I can really- I'm not exactly all that good at keeping myself out of trouble, and Rick has sort of a lot more experience in getting himself into messes,” he says helplessly.

Marlo once again thinks of getting herself on the whole space trip, when there's an imperious meow at Genis's ankle. They both look down, and find the cat of Carol Danvers looking at him expectantly. Genis gives her a helpless look.

Marlo tries to pick up the cat instead, but she hisses at her and bolts. So, there's another sign she probably should stay - Captain Marvel's cat hates her.

“Just tell him not to be an idiot, if he's acting like one,” she says.

“I thought I would just pick up Chewie and let her glare at him, until he realises on his own,” Genis replies with a lopsided smile.

“He usually gets that on his own without external help after a while,” Marlo says. “Eventually.” Then, she puts her hand on his shoulder and kisses his cheek. “Take care of yourself.”

“Thank you,” Genis says. “You too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Carol is running through her inventory. Fortunately, by now she knows what to take on space journeys, so it is mostly just the stuff she will need for Genis and the others that needs to be considered.

“Does Motrin work on Kree?”, she wonders aloud, rubbing her temples.

Reed Richards quietly adds a glass of purple pills to her inventory. “That’s the Kree equivalent for it. I guess it will work on you, too.”

Carol almost jumps out of her skin, because Mr. Fantastic and his stretchy approach are so … alien that her instincts that usually warn her if somebody of the size and mass of a human is coming closer simply don’t work on him.

It also is extremely disquieting to see a hand take something from a cupboard across the room while the head and the voice are floating somewhere over her head and the feet are still in another room. And there is no sound of steps just this vague swishing sound like cloth floating along on a breeze.

“I am sorry.” He pulls himself together beside her and drops some more medical supplies into the box meant for them. “I forget not everyone is used to me like that.”

Carol shrugs. “As long as you don’t mind one day being blasted by someone who is too jumpy to check first?”

“You assume this has not happened yet.” She can’t decide if he is facetious or not and decides not to comment.

“Thank you. You have been extremely helpful. We could not have done any of this without you.”

Reed waves her thanks away. “This is what we do?” He hesitates. “Actually, I wanted to thank you.”

“Why?” Carol feels puzzled.

“For making it possible for Songbird to join you. Separating her and Genis at this point might have led to trouble.”

“Did something happen I should know about?” She simply talked to Steve because she felt it was the right thing. That leaving Melissa behind would be churlish. Was there more to it? Was there anything she had not seen?

Somehow, she thought suddenly having a grown-up kid meant that you get spared the hassle instead of having more of it. Of course, her experience with children of her own is not something that would ever give her a real handle on this kind of problem. And Kit could always safely be returned to her mother at the end of the day.

“No. Nothing happened.” Reed shrugs rather elastically. “But I felt making them both worry about each other would not have helped the recovery of my patient. Or might have driven him to take foolish risks.”

Carol decides this is the moment to find out if the purple pills work and she dry swallows one. “I never wanted children. I guess I never get asked about it.”

Reed tries to apologise, and she waves his apology away. “I'm whining to let off steam, nothing more.”

She should really watch what she is saying sometimes—not everyone will fail to notice what comes out of her mouth.

 

* * *

  

Una spends at least five minutes next to the door, telling herself there is nothing to worry about. Her emotions, sadly, disagree and keep insisting that Captain Marvel will hold a grudge against her. She is Yon-rogg's daughter, and the woman is Mar-vell's lover. That her father decided to attack her independent of that, also does not help.1

They were shopping together, she tells herself. If she'd wanted Una dead, she could have blasted her at any point in time. It actually helps her feel like she has a reasonable chance, so she opens the door and peers inside.

“Hello?” she says, and Carol turns around to look at her. She's dressed in a red and blue armoured suit, with the star of Hala on her chest. One could probably put her on a recruitment poster—something that probably helped to spread the rumour that she is related to Mar-vell.

“Oh, it's you,” the other woman says.

“Ah, yes, I wanted to ask something,” she replies.

“Go on,” Carol says and leans against the wall, with her hands crossed over her breasts.

“I'd rather not stay on Earth,” she says. “I'm sure it's perfectly nice, when it's not being invaded or when there's no cataclysms threatening reality, but all the same, I think I'd rather stay away.”

“Even though you have friends here?” Captain Marvel looks her up and down.

That’s a point, but she isn’t really trusting that. Sooner or later, someone will remember she is Yon-Rogg’s daughter and lock her up. Or remember she killed a man here. “Yes. I wouldn’t fit in here.”

“And you'd like a lift, is that it?”

“Well, yes,” Una replies. “Just drop me off at some space-station outside of the Kree Empire, and you can forget I exist.”

“I can probably do that,” Carol says, although she doesn't sound very happy. “I'd rather get to Mar-vell as fast as possible, but having a reason to be around Kree space after I hand your father over to them would be useful.”

“Well, in the worst case you could drop me off after you've found him,” Una says. “I was exiled, so you won't have to stop in the Empire for me on your way out either.”

“Well, given that Rick Jones and Genis are also not on any most popular people list in the Kree Empire, I guess it won’t make a difference.” She shrugs. “Welcome aboard. I should probably start charging for tickets.”

Una feels a little bit cheated then. She had expected more resistance to the idea. Still, it's likely best not to mention that, in case Carol decides that resisting is a much more fun option.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Don't mention it,” Carol replies. “Now, go fetch your stuff. We're on a schedule.”


	37. Day 8, Part 3: Before I'll go hear me out Cos of this there ain't no doubt

Melissa has been to space, but never beyond the Solar system, and so she feels somewhat—make that really—nervous when she enters the Baxter building. She finds Genis's room and puts her bag down on the floor.

Genis is up, and doesn't look like he's going to keel over again, so at least there is one less reason for her to be nervous.

"So, you're the expert—how is space travel?” she asks, then kisses his cheek.

"I hadn't moved around on ships all that much, really,” Genis answers. „But if everything is going well, it's mostly boring. People bring things to read or watch, or play—it's kind of more interesting if you can move on your own, but generally you don't want interesting. Well, unless you're sight-seeing—some planets are really breath-taking, though generally that means you don't want to breathe there—or land there.”

"So, planets are like poisonous frogs? The brighter, the more dangerous?” she asks, and giggles. „Sorry, I'm all jittery about this—I've never done this before.”

Genis, being Genis, doesn't seem to know what to say, and pulls her closer. Except, that ends up with her hugging his stomach, since Genis is quite a bit taller. Noticing it is an uncomfortable position, he tries to lift her up. Bad idea, because he still is not completely coordinated.

The young man takes a step backward, Melissa tries to lift herself up, which leads to Genis stumbling because the change in weight distribution throws his balance off and in the end, they both land beside the couch in an awkward heap.

"Ok, that was really a smart idea”, Genis manages, blushing, as he tries to find enough of his limbs to lever himself in a sitting position.

Melissa rubs her backside. „No.” She grins. „Let’s not do this again.”

“Oh, no, do try again,” the Kree woman says, as she looks at them with smirk. She is holding a rather practical backpack in her arms, as she leans against the doorframe. “But maybe contain yourselves a bit, and wait until we're on the ship. I could give you some pointers on how to do it in a more controlled manner.”

Melissa decides that the most mature response would be throwing a pillow at the Kree, and does just that. It hits her square in the face. It does absolutely nothing to stop her from offering more advice.

“In fact, I could tell you about what Kree like in bed,” she continues with far too much enthusiasm.

Genis sighs. Loudly. Then rolls his eyes. “So, can I. Saluting, isn't it? And maybe uniforms,” he says. “Fortunately, I'm just part Kree, so I'm not boring.”

It's partially the nerves, still, and partially the fact that her brain makes a military related word-jump, and Melissa starts giggling like a schoolgirl. 

 

* * *

 

 

There is an undeniable sense of excitement when Clint arrives back at the Baxter Building. Franklin collects him at the entrance and tells him about the famous hero that Captain Marvel and her friends will be bringing back. Clint isn’t sure if Franklin has memories of Mar-vell, but he has clearly heard a lot of stories, which spill out in a confused tumble.

It’s enough to make Clint remember his own encounters with Mar-vell. Not that there had been many, but they were certainly memorable. He saw him die on Hala, and die again on Titan. And he saw him fight, and inspire. And now, he had met him beyond the grave, an experience both men shared.

‘Remind me not to mention that.’

He isn’t here for Mar-vell, he is here for Melissa. He really needs to apologize to her, to make sure he doesn’t fall into the pattern of abusive jerks in her life. He also wants to see if she is better—she clearly was nearing the end of her rope. He wants her to know that if anything happens, he will be there for her—and if everything goes well, then he will be happy for her and all that.

Hopefully, he can convey all of that without starting to babble, because he's fairly certain his mouth would run away from him and land him somewhere weird if he'd try 

He finds Melissa on the landing pad, repacking the contents of a large backpack into a crate. Mr. Fantastic and Carol are discussing a list, while Rick Jones and Genis-vell are playing politeness judo with a blue Kree woman in front of the gangway leading up into a small but sleek space ship. Carol notices him, but other than giving him a stern look makes no comment.

He clears his throat before looking around. Hopefully, Mar-vell isn’t hanging around somewhere because what he is going to say now is not anything he wants him to hear.

“Hey, Melissa.”

“Clint. Hi.” She looks up, her face rather flush with excitement. Clearly, she is not yet blasé about space travel, like so many other super heroes. But then, the T-Bolts were mostly Earth bound. She also looks more relaxed and seems to have had a solid night’s sleep.

“I wanted to call by your office, see how you are doing, and then I hear you are going to be an astronaut. So, I wanted to show some of my boundless experience in those matters and give you advice”, he says.

The young woman laughs. “What is it? Sound doesn’t carry in a vacuum?”

“More like, don’t try to breath a vacuum, but I guess that’s probably a good point, too.”

“I found that out when Zemo dragged us up into space”, she answers with a grimace. “Contrary to Karla, I’m not built for space travel.”

“And yet you are going into space.”

“So, did you.” She shrugs. “I’ll deal.”

“I know.” Well, turns out he will have to get sappy, because he has learned that you always regret not saying things you feel like saying and refrain from because it’s sentimental or unmanly or whatever.

Even if Bobbi hadn’t told him the truth about the whole involvement of Melissa in Steve finding out about Maria Hill’s little side-project for criminals, that it had been her who had given him the necessary information to reveal it, he’d have to apologize. He almost hadn’t shown up when Jess had said Carol told her to tell him to come and even then, he hadn’t had the courage.

“I need to tell you a few things before you leave—first, I said some things that I really shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have called you names. I should have trusted you. I know you. I should have… “

Melissa bites her lip. She doesn’t look happy, she looks pained. For a moment, he has inkling how much he really hurt her, before she pleads: “Clint, stop. It’s ok. Really. It’s already forgiven. I’m just glad to know you are still my friend.”

He probably shouldn’t do that, given that Genis can see them, but… Some things a man has got to do when he realizes he messed up royally. Gently, he puts his arms around her. “I’ll always be your friend, kid. Always. I’m just an idiot sometimes, rushing off without thinking. Or running off at the mouth.”

He feels her tremble and strokes her hair. “I really don’t want to be another jerk in your life. I’m your friend and I hope I don’t ever give you a reason to doubt me.” Except, it’s not so easy, is it? “I’ll try my best in the future, but should I be this stupid again, kick me? Bobbi kept saying that occasionally I need sense slapped into me. I guess she is right.”

Melissa makes a choking sound and untangles herself. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

So, he continues, “Take care. I have complete faith in you being able to deal with everything those crazy dudes up there throw at you, but it pays to be careful. I’d hate to find out you got eaten by a space whale or whatever.”

“There’s no vacuum inside a solid object and I am pretty sure even space whales are made of high percentages of water. Sound carries very well there.” She looks up at him, managing a crooked grin. “I’m coming back. I promise.”

Clint pats her back. “You'd better. I'll find someone to bring you back otherwise and I'll invite Jess and Bobbi to give you a very stern lecture on not dying.”

“Did you listen?” Melissa winks at him. “If you promise not to give any lectures, I’ll introduce you properly to Genis, since last time didn’t work.”

He doesn’t mention he saw them both asleep (as cute as a basket full of puppies…) and follows her to the ship. 

 

* * *

 

 

Genis feels somewhat puzzled, as he watches Melissa greet the tall blond man who seems vaguely familiar. His puzzlement changes to confusion as he hugs her, and she seems to cry. He isn’t jealous, but surprised and worried over whatever would upset her this much. At times like this, the cosmic awareness telling him who this guy is and how she knows him – and if he forgot something he should know – would actually be useful. But he keeps blocking it, so he remains puzzled until they walk over to him and greet him. He still doesn’t remember, but Rick takes it upon himself to whisper the name into his ear.

“I'm the other heroic blond Avenger,” Clint Barton, also known as Hawkeye, says.

“We've met,” Genis says, and wonders if it's really the time to remind Hawkeye about that time when it turned out the smartest person on Titan and their thinking computer couldn't figure out how to operate the Moonstone.

Clint Barton blinks and then says, “Oh. Huh, we did, didn't we?”

“I guess I don't make that much of an impression compared to... er... everything else Avengers meet?” Genis says.

“No, it's just there's so many tall blonde guys in the super hero business one starts confusing them eventually,” Clint answered with a grin. “See, I sometimes look in the mirror in the morning, and wonder—huh, what is Cap doing here? Or is it Havoc? Ah, wait no, just plain ol' me.”

Genis snorts as he tries not to laugh too hard and not end up with an even more sore back and stomach. It's not going that great.

“Well, anyway, nice to meet you and good luck,” Clint continues. “Avoid space-monsters, don't stay up past bed time and all that.”

“Space monsters aren't that much of a problem,” Genis starts to say, only for Rick to sigh heavily. “They're not. Really—most of them are just monstering about and minding their business, unless you do something stupid.”

“Well, I guess you know more about that, being an alien,” Clint says and then adds towards Rick, “Hey, what if your face stays like that?”

“People promised that to me since I was a kid. It never worked.” Rick isn’t too old to stick out his tongue apparently. Genis realizes that staying around him he will come off as much more mature by default. Not a bad deal really.

Hawkeye laughs. “Nostalgia colors everything. I keep forgetting how annoying you could get when you were a teenager.”

Rick gives a theatrical sigh, and Genis feels a surge of … something at the thought of someone else being the target of Rick’s jokes. It’s probably relief. “Really, you missed out. I am much more annoying as a grown up, just ask Genis.”

Too much to hope for, really. Although… “I agree. He gets worse the older he gets”, Genis bursts out. For a moment, he worries that he went too far, but Rick gives him a comradely slap on the shoulder. “Touché.”

“Alright everyone,” Carol says, “I hate to cut this short, but it's time to go. Clint—did you do what you’re here for? Because if not, then I’m taking you and you will need to sleep in the cat basket.”

An offended meow follows from the cat-carrier. Clearly, Chewie is objecting to sharing her bed.

“That's not a cat, Carol,” Clint says. “It's a fiend from hell. I'm not going to risk offending her—you just make sure you all come back safely.”

“Sure.” Carol gives him a short, brisk hug and ushers everyone on board. Since the Richards already said their goodbyes, they can finally be on their way. Genis feels a surge of apprehension, worrying about what they will find. “Please be ok…” Melissa puts her hand on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around her as they look through the window in the airlock down on the receding Baxter Building.

“Just what was this about? He made you cry.”

Melissa sighs, leaning against Genis and holding his hand. “Long, long story.”


	38. Day 8, Part 4: Give me back my innocence cos I wish to dream again / Like I never outgrew my old playground

Genis watches Earth grow smaller for a while, before finally tearing himself away from the viewport to explore, while Melissa disappears in the bathroom. Taking off has made her queasy, she says.

Not that there is much to see—the ship is not big, and one of the cabins is completely occupied by the machinery that it keeping Colonel Yon-Rogg in stasis. Genis steals a look at him, and finds him under-whelming—just a brown-haired man with bitterness etched into his features even in the forced sleep. He doesn't look like Una at all, but he thinks he can see quite a bit of resemblance to Zey-Rogg.

And that makes him think of the little boy—Hav? His name was Hav, wasn't it?

Una stops in front of the door too, and watches the man inside with an unreadable expression until Genis puts his hand on her shoulder. She brushes it off, and marches away then.

Genis looks at Yon-Rogg one more time, and still sees nothing but a middle-aged man. He catches himself thinking that it's unfair that he hadn't died—at least then everything Zey-Rogg did would have had a point.

He catches up with Una, though mostly because she chooses to sit down in the common area of the ship, and he doesn't really have to look for her.

“Hey,” he says, “Your brother had a son, right?”

Una looks up at him sharply, then nods. “Hav. Little maggot once poured paint into my bed.”

“Um... What happened to him?” Genis asks.

Una shrugs. “After you defeated Zey the first time, his mother packed and returned to her family. She took Hav with her, and refused any contact. You made Zey look quite pathetic then, and we weren't prestigious enough anymore.”

“Your brother did that on his own,” Genis snaps. “He didn't have to attack me, and he didn't have to kill all those people.”

Una seems rather startled, and watches him with wide eyes for a moment. Then she gives him a softer look, which doesn't look like her at all. “No. He didn't.”

Genis looks down at the table. “Sorry—I shouldn't have-”

“Actually, you should have,” Una says firmly. “I'm... not nice. So, if I say something that's really unpleasant, you should tell me, because I don't know how not to be like that.”

Genis only manages to open his mouth, when she adds, “You still do not get to call me a hedgehog.” 

 

* * *

 

 

The matter of rooms comes back again only fifteen minutes later, when Melissa and Rick enter the common area of the ship and inform them there are only three rooms left.

“One of them is upstairs, and it clearly is the Captain’s room, so it’s Carol’s,” Melissa adds. “And Chewie’s.”

Genis and Una nod, while Rick says, “You are going to have me share rooms with Genis, aren't you?”

“I am not sharing a room with anyone,” Una says quickly.

At the same time, Melissa says, “I am sharing a room with Genis.”

Genis diplomatically does not mention he'd rather share a room with someone who isn't feeling forced to do so, and he'd had enough of sharing space with Rick for several lifetimes. It's not that he hates him, it's just that there's the fact that they will get on each other’s nerves very quickly.

“We could take turns sleeping in the common area?” Genis offers after a moment.

“Oh no,” Una says. “You are not going to be reasonable on me, and then have us all explain why the person in convalescence is sleeping on the floor.”

Genis snorts, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Fine. Then I'm sharing a room with Melissa and you two can sort out sleeping on floors.”

Really, that is completely unfair—he tries to be reasonable and what happens? He's told to be unreasonable.

“I am not sleeping on a floor,” Una says stubbornly.

“Well, neither am I,” Rick says.

They glare at each other. And glare some more.

“How about you share the room with Carol Danvers, and I get a room of my own?” Rick says.

“You mean share a room with her and the animal of hers?” Una huffs. “No.”

“I am not sleeping on the floor all the way to the Kree galaxy,” Rick says stubbornly.

“I am not sleeping on the floor, period,” Una replies.

Genis is starting to feel like maybe suggesting his idea again, because otherwise they will just keep going on and on, except it's probably not going to work the second time.

“They're adults,” Melissa whispers somewhat doubtfully. “They can sort it out.”

“Let's pick a room before they notice,” Genis says.

Not that he can actually sneak out yet, but Rick and Una are still arguing when they leave. 

 

* * *

 

 

The next problem is the arrangement of beds, which are bunk beds. And were not exactly designed with very tall people in mind.

Since there is no chance that Genis will climb up yet, Melissa chooses the upper bed. She floats up, sits there with her legs dangling and grins. “Hm, under these circumstances, I guess Rick and Una will be able to sort their differences.”

Genis grins. “We can go watch them,” he suggests.

Melissa grins back, “Seeing that we are obviously much more mature, I think we should.”

“To make sure they're going to resolve this,” Genis adds, trying very hard to look solemn. It's not working at all.

“Exactly,” Melissa says, and covers her mouth with her hand to sniffle her giggling.

“I'm taking the upper bunk!” two voices yell outside.

Melissa floats down, and they both look out of the room, where they can observe Una and Rick glaring at each other again. It goes on for a solid five minutes, until Carol Danvers shows up, assesses the situation and says, “You,” she points at Una, “have the upper bunk today, the day after tomorrow and so on. You,” she points at Rick, “have the upper bunk tomorrow, and on the day after the day after tomorrow. Are we clear?”

Una gives her a very dejected look, while Rick sighs heavily and grumbles a “Yes, mom.”

“That's Colonel Mom to you,” Carol replies firmly.

  

* * *

 

 

Genis and Melissa retreat back to their room, and sit down on the lower bunk until the giggles subside. It takes them a moment to arrange themselves comfortably, but eventually, Genis has a pillow behind his back as he rests against the wall and Melissa is cuddling to him.

“Would you mind telling me what you and Hawkeye were talking about before we left?” Genis eventually asks. For a moment, she looked upset, and he wonders if it was just some last moment bad news, or something worse.

Melissa doesn’t answer at first and only cuddles closer. Then she says slowly: “He came to wish me luck and apologize. He misunderstood a situation and chewed me out for something I didn’t do. But we’re good now.”

Genis leans to kiss the top of her head and says, “Ok, then.”

That doesn’t sound totally terrible, but he can understand how it might rankle. It’s good they resolved it. Going by his experience, these things get worse the longer they are left, so he just wraps his arms tighter around her and does his best to be a comfortable place to lean on.

“I missed him, when he was angry with me,” Melissa continues after another moment. “I guess… he’s sort of like a big brother to me. When he led the Thunderbolts, he helped me understand certain things about myself and to think that he thought I was capable of what he accused me of… That was the worst of it.”

“I guess people say things they don’t mean when they are angry?” Genis ventures. At least that is what he got from Rick’s attempt at an apology.

“They definitely do.” Melissa sits up straighter and kisses his cheek. “I guess what they tell you in kindergarten, about counting to ten before saying anything in anger, is not so stupid.”

“Probably not.” Genis tries to kiss her back which is a bit awkward given the angle between them. “He really shouldn’t have called you names.”

For a moment Melissa frowns, then she sits up so they can kiss properly. They are still at it when Carol knocks at their door to ask them if they want to try out Marlo’s game. Normally, Genis wouldn’t be all that bothered by people catching him like that, but most of the time it’s not his father’s girlfriend.

Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like Carol takes any notice of both what they were doing, or Genis’s very unsuccessful attempt of hiding behind Melissa.

“We’re setting up the game, so feel free to join us,” she says, and discreetly closes the door behind her.

Melissa snorts. “She was totally giggling.”


	39. Day 8, Part 5: I can't breathe easy here, less our trail's gone cold behind us

Space travel is usually fairly boring, unless you have bad luck and something decides to eat you, or someone wants to rob you, or there's another invasion in progress right through your route. But if none of this happens, it just means sitting on a space ship, and finding something to occupy yourself with.

Which is where the game from Marlo comes in handy, so they find themselves seated in the common area and staring at a game board.

“Wouldn't the game make more sense if we were agents deploying bioweapons?” Una asks, after Rick starts explaining the rules.

Carol Danvers slides her hand over her face. “No, because it's a game based on cooperation.”

“You can cooperate while deploying bioweapons,” Una replies.

“But then you'd just put them somewhere and the game would end,” Rick points out. “What's the fun in playing something that ends in three moves?”

Una gives him an unconvinced look, but makes no further comments when goes back to explaining the various cards, and how the epidemics spread. Still, eventually they do start playing. They only manage to do three rounds, before Chewie jumps on the table and curls up on the board.

“Chewie...” Carol Danvers groans. “Really?”

The flerken gives no sign she is in any way bothered, or has even heard her owner, which only lead to Carol picking her up and putting her on the floor. Chewie gives them all an offended look as she walks away with all the dignity of an unlawfully deposed queen.

“Do we try again?” Rick asked.

“Of course,” Una says imperiously, then eyes the colourful pieces of plastic with a frown. “How do we arrange those again?” 

 

* * *

 

 

The game really is amusing, even if Genis and Rick seem to always draw the cities which they absolutely cannot use. At some point, Melissa starts coordinating them, and though at first Una complains, she eventually starts listening. Carol Danvers appears to go with it without much comment.

They still lose the game, in the end, but then when they start the third one, they actually manage to form sort of a strategy from the beginning and this one actually looks like they might win it.

Except by then, Genis starts getting sleepy.

“We can finish tomorrow,” Rick suggests after Genis fails to stifle a yawn.

“Or you could continue without me,” Genis points out. “I can wash and get to bed on my own.”

He's being a nuisance—still getting tired too fast, and in need of watching like a child.

“Don't be stupid,” Una says. “Nobody wants you to miss out the fun—and tell your girlfriend I can barely feel her kicking my ankle.”

Melissa gives her an innocent look, and replies, “Then you shouldn't be complaining about it, should you?”

Una only looks haughty, even when Genis starts hiding a grin behind his hand. 

 

* * *

 

 

He finally manages to do an evening bathroom routine without any major hang-ups or cramps or miscalculations, which tells him that he is definitely on the mend. Even without his powers, his body is still very resilient.

It’s strange to see his face all pink instead of blue, his hair gold instead of silver-white. He’s not used to that any more. Blue eyes, all too much like his father’s eyes, but lost and scared. None of his father’s quiet confidence, of his warmth and strength. A deer in the headlights, humans call that, if he remembers correctly.

He can’t look away. ‘Who am I?’ No, that’s easy. Who has never been the problem. Who has dominated his life since he was decanted in a wash of amniotic fluid. ‘What am I?’ That’s much harder.

He runs a finger over the line of his mirror image’s cheekbone, the strong curve of his chin. His face is squarer than his father’s, more typically Kree. He thinks of little Valeria and her question about teeth. Did she get that answered?

Something moves in the mirror. Adrenalin jolts, but it is only Rick, who colours bright red, after seeing him naked in front of the mirror. “Sorry, will wash later,” he mumbles and flees.

Genis frowns, surprised at the sentiment. There aren’t all that many barriers between them anymore, not after sharing, in essence a body. Still, it might be better if he dresses. Among the things Carol bought him there is also a navy blue pyjama, a garment that reminds him of some of the stranger moments of switching places with Rick. He puts it on carefully and frowns, because he cannot remember ever wearing anything like it.

Barefoot, he traipses out of the tiny bathroom and towards his cabin, where Chewie greets him purring on his pillow.

 

* * *

 

 

Melissa helps Carol clean up the kitchen after dinner, while Una makes at least a token effort at decorative dish towel twirling. Carol raises an eyebrow when Melissa dismisses her. “We are fine, why don’t you finish unpacking your stuff? Three people in her are only stepping on each other’s’ toes.” With the nonchalance of someone who clearly was raised upper class, the Kree nods and disappears very quickly.

“It wouldn’t have hurt her to do chores,” Carol comments.

“No, it wouldn’t, and since these are plastic dishes, they’d likely have survived, too,” Melissa says with a lopsided grin. “But I need to talk to you in private for a moment. And she was looking for an excuse anyway, so I gave her one.”

Carol decides that is the right moment to remember she has a dishwasher on the ship. In a few moments, they load it and turn it on, then sit down at the table.

“No good conversation ever started with those words,” she comments. “Coke? Or coffee?”

“Both.” Melissa sighs. “It’s nothing bad. I think.” She takes off one of her cuffs and pulls out a small metal disc, less than an inch in diameter. “I take it you pulled strings to get me on this ship, right? Well, when Steve Rogers called me, to give me the news, he also told me he’d left ‘supplies’ at my apartment for me to take on the trip. He wasn’t talking about rations or batteries. Instead, I found this in my sock drawer, with two notes attached. One instructed me to give it to you.” 

While Carol turns the little disc in her hand, feeling the slight indention that is probably an activation button, Melissa pulls a folded piece of paper from the same compartment inside her cuff, before putting it on again. “This is for you.”

It does have the letters C.M. written on the top in Steve Roger’s hand.

Her message delivered, the young woman gets up to leave, but Carol motions for her to stay, while she unfolds the note. The text it contains is very short. “In case of emergency...”

Recognising the bit of military gallows humour, Carol grins. “Thank you.”

When Melissa keeps looking nervous, her instincts start twitching. “What is it?”

“I... I don’t know. It didn’t say.”

Captain Marvel simply leans back, crosses her arms across her chest and waits.

But Melissa is clearly not a beginner, because she just looks back stoically, keeping her hands relaxed at her sides, her expression perfectly neutral. Before the whole thing turns hostile, Carol decides that since they are both here as civilians, she might as well play nice.

“I’m not asking you to betray secrets or orders. But you have a brain, so you have thoughts about this, do you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And you don’t want to tell me.”

Melissa nods. “It is just a hunch. I really don’t know anything.”

Well. This can be bad. It certainly sounds bad and Carol... Carol used to be in the military intelligence—when she starts thinking „bad” then those are usually not pretty scenarios.

“Is this something that will end up with us at war with the Kree?” she asks.

Melissa opens her mouth, then closes it again and chews on her lip. “Not specifically, no. If this is what I suspect, it has nothing to do with the Kree.”

Carol nods. “I see.” She holds the disc up and inspects it. “This doesn't look like SHIELD-tech. I don't think I recognize who could have make it.”

Melissa hesitates for another moment, and then says. “It seems familiar to me. It looks like the kind of thing that Norbert, I mean Fixer, would have made.”

Carol's eyebrows shoot up, as she takes that in. For a moment, she considers asking Melissa what the old T-Bolts are up to at the moment, except that feels undiplomatic. Maybe Steve simply bought that little thing from Fixer, who was never one to decline a business proposal. And even if he is working closer with Steve in one of those shady deals that intelligence business just loves, does she really want to know? There’s a reason for need to know, after all.

“Well, we might never need it,” she says, although as soon as she says it she... If she'd still have her danger sense, she'd have sworn it just started trying to get her attention. Then again, she doesn't need it to remember exactly what kind of luck Mar-vell used to have.

“You don't look convinced,” Melissa says.

“It's... nothing to do with your suspicions,” she sighs. “Just... I'm probably being paranoid.”

For a moment it looks like Melissa wants to say something, reach out. In the end, she obviously decides against it, and just excuses herself. ‘Way to go, Carol, girl, now that you pulled rank on her, she’ll probably never trust you again. Thanks, Steve, for picking up on that cloak and dagger crap so quickly.’ She leans back, and since Melissa never touched her coke, grabs the glass and downs it.

‘And it was such a nice day.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And today, we're giving you a new side story: Interlude: Starfox.


	40. Day 8, Part 6: The devil grins from ear to ear when he sees the hand he's dealt us

Like a reasonable adult, Carol calls her best friend to whine. She has space Skype—Tony was nice enough to install it on Jess's computer too. So, here they sit and Carol is admiring Gerry who is making baby sounds.

“Say hi to mommy's friend,” Jess says. She's even doing the 'baby-voice'. “Say hiiiiiiii~”

Gerry doesn't, of course. He attempts to stick his hand into Jess's nose instead.

“I think he might need a bit more training before he can be safely trusted with saying hi,” Carol says.

Jess huffs, but refrains from bringing up her greater experience in being a mother. Instead, she asks, “So, how is space?”

“Still there,” Carol replies. Then she sighs. “I think I messed up, Jess.”

“Should I be worried, or should I tell you everyone does?” Jess asks.

“Well, I know everyone does. It just isn’t really a consolation if you did.” Carol draws a grimace, which Gerry promptly tries to copy. Like everyone faced with a baby doing that, she involuntarily draws another which is copied again. Jess patiently waits for the show to stop, and then asks: “So, how did you screw up?”

“Not completely sure. I guess I pulled rank on someone who didn’t appreciate it.”

Jess sighs. It's a very long sigh. “Then apologize and don't do it again.”

“I’m not sure that will be enough”, Carol sighs. “I might have done quite a bit damage to a rather fragile relationship, and I’m not exactly sure why.”

“What happened exactly?” Jess asks. “I can't really help you if I don't know who exactly you upset and how.”

“Songbird.” Carol shrugs. “I only met her a handful of times before this whole mess. I didn’t even know her, not really.”

“Hm, I don't know her either,” Jess says. “So, what happened?”

“She had a message for me, from Steve. It was cryptic, I asked her what she thought it meant. She didn’t want to tell me.” Carol pictures the scene. “I treated her like a recruit, trying to stare her down.”

Jess arches her eyebrows. "And why did you do it?”

For a moment, Carol simply fidgets, before letting out a long sigh. “I... Look, it might sound stupid, if you never knew Mar-vell personally, but... he's one of the people who just seem to attract trouble by simply existing. I... I'm worried. I don't want to worry the others—Genis will just fret, and well, I guess Rick already knows, and... I just- I know Steve wouldn't do anything that could put him in danger, but I... I guess panicked anyway. Because what I don't know can end up being the thing that tips the scales against us.”

“You could be a mature adult and apologize”, Jess suggests, looking very not mature as she mimes something with a plush bunny to make little Gerry laugh and reach for it. “Really, after all the crap the girl went through at SHIELD, that wasn’t exactly tactful of you. She’ll probably think you hate her.”

“OK, space to Jess, I’m not getting what you are hinting at,” Carol pauses. Obviously, she missed some really important memo here. “I’m not hating her. Why should I? Screaming Mimi wasn’t that bad, the worst part about her was her costume.”

“This isn’t about whatever fashion crimes she committed when she was a kid. I get you are in space, but did you really miss the big blowup that landed Captain America head of SHIELD?” Jess seems quite nonplussed. Carol feels likewise.

“Of course, I know about that, and about Maria Hill being reassigned to a pimple on the arse of nowhere – not my words – but what does it have to do with Melissa?” Ok, being head of space definitely means Earth becomes a blue planet somewhere far off and whatever they are up to this week nothing worse than a storm in a bottle. The cynical part of her wonders if that was why Mar-Vell liked Earth so much...

“There’s a very strong rumor going on in military and secret service circles that your Melissa was the whistle blower who gave the information to Rogers.”

“Oh fuck.” A couple of novas go off in Carol’s head. “Nobody likes whistle blowers. Even if what they uncover was shit and necessary. They still get shunned. Or at best retired with full honours so nobody has to look at them anymore and remember how they screwed up.”

“I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I’m sure the girl got enough grief for it.”

Carol mimes hitting her head against the keyboard, which is immediately enthusiastically copied by Gerry. It looks like the world’s tiniest headbanger. Despite herself, she has to chuckle. “Shit. How should I mend that bridge again?”

“You should apologize,” Jess says. “And you know, maybe explain that you're worried about your guy and that you didn’t know and didn’t mean to imply anything about her and her sense of duty. And promise not to do it again. Mature adult stuff.”

Carol nods. “Yeah, I guess.” She sighs. “I can’t believe I’m that out of touch.”

“That’s what you have me for. To keep you up to date. So, call me more often?” Jess says and sticks out her tongue. Gerry appears to agree with her because he starts waving his hands enthusiastically. Or perhaps the plush bunny is that exciting. “You like the bunny, don't you? The bunny is the best bunny.”

“Thanks. I will try.” Carol watches Jess and Gerry and grins. “Already hunting bunnies?”

“Says the woman whose costume was ears and tail away from looking like one,” Jess replies.

“Says the woman who used to have an arrow pointing to her crotch,” Carol shoots back.

Jess laughs. “I guess we don’t really have room to get on a high horse about this. None of us.”

Carol can’t help but agree. “Also, thanks a lot. I guess old habits die hard.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Una stops before the cabin that contains her father, and watches him through the window. Now that they are both on the same ship as Genis, she regrets mentioning him to Yon-rogg. Not that she expects him to break free, but... Her father went after the current Captain Marvel, despite her being pretty much a one-woman army. She can imagine that he will want to hurt Genis too—and she likes the boy. And it will be her fault if he gets hurt.

If her father is somehow released and Genis does not recover by this theoretical point in time, that is. Otherwise, her father will once again only demonstrate his lack of better judgement. She really shouldn't feel so disappointed in him—this is not news to her.

And yet.

She shakes her head and moves away from the door. This is the last place she should be in, she decides.

She walks towards the cabin she is sharing with the annoying loud-mouthed human, and deliberately thinks about all the things that irritate her, instead of her father.

When she enters the room, she feels quite like herself again.

Then she notices that Rick Jones buried himself under the blanket, like it's some sort of a fort.

“Are you hiding from me?” she asks.

“Since you're talking to me, it's clearly not very effective, so no, I am not,” Rick Jones answers. His voice is rather muffled.

“Do I want to know what you are doing?” Una asks, and then she continues, “Actually, never mind—there's something else I wanted to know. What exactly did happen to Genis?”

Rick Jones pokes out from under the blanket and then sits up. “He was trapped in the Darkforce Dimension.”

Una just stares at him, until he catches on that not every place in the universe has people falling into various other dimensions, like it's made from holes.

“It's a place of complete emptiness and darkness,” he says.

“Which would be unpleasant, if you absorb light,” Una guesses.

Rick Jones's expression tells her that it was a large understatement. “It's traumatic for anyone who gets in there.” He hesitates, then adds: “I guess it’s like being buried alive.”

Una shivers. That is something she can relate to. Not that she really was buried, but she has been locked away and she has lived in fear of the fate of being buried alive in her own brain ever since her powers manifested. That her father lied to her about this doesn’t mean the fear was not real. She bites her lip. “Who did this to him?” she asks softly.

“You wouldn't know of him,” he answers. “A creep named Baron Zemo. Long story short—Genis nearly got killed, and he was sort of regenerating, when Zemo decided he would help. Except his help ended up messing up Genis's photonic powers, so apparently, he was going to end the universe. So, Zemo decided the only way of fixing his mistake was to put Genis in the Darkforce Dimension.”

“I know of him,” Una says, after a moment. “He founded the Thunderbolts to take over Earth, didn’t he? And then they rebelled and threw him out, but he later convinced them to take him back. And he did save your planet, and apparently died, but got better. And got back to wanting to take over Earth, like that actually sounds like a place one would want to rule.”

“Okay, so you did your homework,” Rick replies.

“Isn’t this Zemo supposed to know enough about various sciences not to end up in a situation like that though?” she muses out loud. After all, someone else managed to fix whatever was wrong with Genis, so clearly, it wasn’t impossible.”

“Well... Zemo is a creep, and everything he does is about taking over the world,” Rick says. “It was awful convenient that he had the excuse to get rid of the cosmically aware guy, wasn't it?”


	41. Day 9, Part 1: Scared to fall asleep again / In case the dream begins again

The sea is frozen, but the ice is thin. The water beneath is black, like the darkness beyond, or the one when you close your eyes and turn your mind inwards. And yet, he can tell there's more under the surface. Something is lurking in the deep, something that-

_I'd like to tell you this will hurt me more than you... but that's not really true._

The ice cracks underneath his feet, and he runs, but he's not fast enough. The ice breaks and he falls. The water closes over his head, is in his mouth and nose, and lungs, and he cannot breathe. It's dark, and coiling around him like a living thing.

It's cold. So very cold, and it whispers.

_We made you, and we can break you._  

 

* * *

 

 

The ship is silent during the night cycle. The lights are dimmed, but not off completely in case there is an emergency, and when Rick slips out of his room, he sees that the kitchen area is brightly lit again. He wonders who else could be up right now, and then goes to check.

It's probably not some super villain, who had somehow snuck in and disabled they security, and is now making themselves something to eat, but who knows?

But no—when he, carefully, peers inside, he finds out it's just Genis and the alien cat. Chewie is watching something on the wall intently, while Genis sits on the floor. His back is against the wall, and he has his arms wrapped around his knees. He doesn't seem to notice Rick, as he watches the cat.

“Hey,” Rick says, hoping not to startle him. “Trouble sleeping?”

Genis looks up at him.

“Yeah,” he says, and looks at his knees.

Rick walks towards the counter, but along the way he changes his mind, and sits down next to Genis. He puts his arm over Genis's shoulders, and only then realizes how tense he is. It's not really apparent at first, but hard to miss when he's touching him.

“What's wrong?” he asks.

Genis lets out something that is half frustrated snort, half something else.

“Nightmares,” he says. “I get scared of my own dreams now.”

Rick is not a therapist. In fact, he's nothing close to even being tactful, but he still tries to think of something to say, but by the time he digs something out, Genis is talking again.

“It's my own damn head,” he says. “I should be able to... sort out things and- and it's not working. It should, shouldn't it? I mean... you can't get more you then your brain, so why don't I ever manage to ...” He doesn't finish the thought—Chewie meows loudly and leans against Genis's leg, distracting him. He picks her up, and lets her lick his nose, and then, when he continues, he scratches her head. “I'm afraid of the dark, like a child, and of drowning, like an idiot—I don't even have to breath.”

“Fears aren't logical?” Rick says. It seems he will have to embarrass himself for the greater cause, so he continues before he thinks better of it, “I've always been afraid I might one day find myself in the middle of the street dressed only in a sexy cake costume.”

Genis stares at him. Then he buries his face in his hands and groans, “Thank you very much, I did not need to imagine that.”

Rick wonders why it seems that his main skill that actually seems to be useful is embarrassing himself. He really, really could have used some talent in motivational speaking. Or something.

And the damned space cat does not have to give him looks that are all superiority.

“Okay, see, the thing is, people tend to be afraid of things that hurt them—or sometimes of things that they associate with something really horrible,” he says. “Like, a colour or a smell.

“Your dad was deathly afraid of people reading his mind—or well any mental contact,” he continues, and Genis looks at him. Rick can guess what comes next, so he answers the question before Genis can ask it. “It was the result of us being bonded. I mean he was pretty private normally and suddenly he had an annoying kid in his head all the time, and then it turns out we were starting to... er... merge? Like into one person. And that scared him—that there wouldn't be a Mar-vell anymore.”

Genis sits in silence for a moment. “And you?” he asks.

Rick shrugs. “I think being a teenager and whining about having an adult over my shoulder all the time kept me too occupied to actually think about that.”

Genis looks at him, and slowly starts to grin. “You have no idea how easy this is to imagine.”

“I don't complain that much,” Rick protests, and then, adds, “Anymore.”

He expects Genis to either continue making fun of him, or laugh, so he's completely off-guard, when he puts Chewie down instead and hugs him tightly.

“Thank you,” he mutters into Rick's shoulder.

Rick wraps his arms around Genis, and strokes his back. Slowly, the tension seems to ebb from Genis, and Rick doesn't realize the danger until it's too late, and Genis is fast asleep.

Which is all fine and dandy, except Kree are heavy, and Genis is built like a damned tank. 

 

* * *

 

 

Carol, very heroically, manages not to laugh out loud, when she finds out why her flerken decided to wake her up in the middle of the night cycle. She enters the kitchen area and finds Rick Jones giving her the kind of look that is usually reserved for... well, she isn't sure what, but it's so much overdone pleading and horror it's hilarious.

She does save him from his predicament and picks Genis up carefully. He stirs, but doesn't wake up.

She doesn't want to wake up Melissa, now that everything seems to be in hand, so she carries Genis to her room instead. She can sleep in the same room as Melissa for one night. Neither she, nor Rick Jones say anything as she carries Genis to bed, and covers him with her blanket. Only when they are back in the corridor she asks: “So, what happened?”

“He had a nightmare, woke up and I found him sitting in the kitchen,” Rick explains.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Carol says. “I didn't think you'd be any good around him.”

“That makes the two of us?” Rick replies, with a shrug. “But hey, Wolverine managed to be headmaster, so I can manage fixing some of what I screwed up, right?”

“One would hope so,” Carol answers. “Should I congratulate on learning one of the joys of adulthood?” 

“You don't like me very much, do you?” Rick asks, somewhat sourly.

Carol looks at him—it's a long calculating stare, and only answers after a while. “I don't hate you, and I don't dislike you. But I'm not particularly patient in the middle of the night, so my usual charm is probably still fast asleep. Which I plan to be soon, too.” Then, she adds, “And I'm worried about Mar-vell.”

That catches him by surprise rather obviously.

“Marv can take care of himself,” he says.

Is that why Steve had called Rick Jones Mar-vell's son? That faith that he can overcome anything?

“Maybe I should rephrase it,” she says. “I'm worried that the Kree will find him. Or that they managed to start another war, and we will end up getting delayed. All those nice, predictable things that happen when you're dealing with most Kree.”

“You do have a point,” Rick Jones says after a moment. “I will sleep easier, now that you reminded me of all the nasty things Kree tend to come up with when left alone.”

Carol slaps his shoulder companionably, before departing in the direction of a bed.

Rick rubs his developing bruise – some people don’t know how squishy others are – and follows Chewie, who jumps on Carol’s bed and curls up on the pillow next to Genis’s head. He pulls up a chair and sits down, secretly wondering what exactly he is doing there. ‘He probably shouldn’t wake up alone in an unfamiliar place. That sucks after hangovers, and likely even more after nightmares,’ he tells himself, conveniently ignoring just why exactly he would wonder about this.


	42. Day 9, Part 2: And I would have stayed up with you all night / Had I known how to save a life

Melissa isn't really sure what wakes her up—perhaps it's the hiss of the door, or the sound of steps, or something entirely different. All she knows is that she's suddenly awake.

She sits up, and sees a silhouette of a woman in front of the lower bunk.

“Did something happen?” she asks, as she peers down at the bunk beneath her.

There's no one there.

“Everything's fine,” Carol says, before Melissa can start panicking properly. “Genis had a nightmare and went to the kitchen, but Rick found him, and apparently he fell asleep again in the kitchen. I didn't want to wake you up, so I put him in my bed and Rick is sitting up with him now.”

Melissa nods, feeling a bit more reassured. For a moment she wonders if she should get up and look after Genis and Rick, but that is probably unnecessary.

“And... I guess I owe you an apology for… earlier,” Carol continues.

There’s an ugly feeling coiling in the pit of Melissa’s stomach, but she does her best to squash it. “You owe me nothing”, she says, trying to keep all emotions out of her voice. Her voice is a work of art, not of biology, and she succeeds.

“No, I do,” Carol says—her vocal cords had not been modified, so she doesn’t have Melissa’s perfect control over it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the rumours about your involvement in the recent scandal at SHIELD. I didn’t ask you because I thought you will betray any secret or mean to imply that your oaths are worth less than mine.” Carol swallows. “I’m really worried about Mar-vell. Steve was so cryptic to me, and I hoped…”

“You hoped he had told me something he would not tell you?” This time, the bitterness rises like lava, and she is no longer sure she can keep it hidden. “And if he did, what then?”

She can’t see the other woman in the dark, but she can hear the intake of breath that accompanies the realisation, the tightening of fists. “I am sorry. That was stupid and insensitive of me. I was just trying to get any little morsel of help I could.” A tiny golden spark illuminates Carol’s face, which is serious and contrite. “I may be ex-military, but I’m not one of those who despise everyone who reveals corruption. I was internal security for a while. It was my job to look for it. I know how popular that makes you and I would never intentionally attack you for helping to bring things like that to light.”

Melissa bites her lip and sits up on her bunk. Carol does sound sincere and worried, and doesn't Melissa know how it is not to be given the benefit of the doubt?

“It’s ok.” People can forget to watch their expression when worried. She understands that. Still, she isn’t sure she’s buying the explanation. Not yet. “Isn't Mar-vell an experienced soldier?” she asks. “I mean, everyone can get into trouble, but for now, nobody outside Earth should know of his return?”

There is a snort. “I wish it were so easy. Yes, he is both responsible and an experienced soldier. He also seems to be incapable of keeping his head down if there is something bad going on—and he has this... rotten luck. I guess Genis inherited that.”

“So... what you mean is that you think there will be some sort of cataclysm and he'll run off to save people?” Melissa guesses.

“And then it will turn out that it was all orchestrated by the Kree to catch him, but then the Skrulls, or the Shi'ar or Badoon will invade, and we'll be neck deep in space conflict,” Carol says.

Melissa takes a deep breath, and decides that making an issue over implications that likely were not meant is not worth it. “Captain America told me nothing. Just that I’d find something at my apartment I am supposed to take on the journey. There was a note, but it just said I was to give it to you. I think it’s a communicator.”

Carol nods. “Thank you. He hinted at giving me a means to call for help if things got rough. I had no idea he intended to pass them through you. I’d rather he hadn’t violated your privacy like that.”

“What's done, is done,” Melissa says.

“Right, and que sera, sera,” Carol answers. “Let's get some sleep. I need energy to go back to being worried tomorrow.”

“Good night,” Melissa says and listens to Carol yawn and straighten out the bed, before she crawls in. She definitely also needs her energy to worry later, but she only can relax when maybe half an hour later Chewie comes in, to crawl in with her mistress – because by now she realised that the space cat would never leave her wayward kitten if there was still something to worry about. 

 

* * *

 

 

Rick yawns and lets his mind wander, as he watches Genis. There are no signs that he's having another nightmare, but even so, he does not look entirely relaxed in his sleep. Without conscious thought, he had curled up and now is gripping the pillow tightly, like some sort of talisman.

Asleep, you show the world your true face, Rick thinks. Awake, you show what the world the face you want it to see.

He wonders if he would have been different towards Genis, if he had seen him like that—trying to make himself smaller, less of a target. Or would he still only see a poor-man's copy of Marv, trying to steal a legacy that he did not deserve?

He thinks back to the other Genis, the one that had saved him during the Destiny War. That one had stopped being vulnerable, but somewhere in the process had grown to hate Rick, and Rick can only wonder just what had he said to the other one to make him so bitter.

It would have been better for either of them to never have shared molecules.

And then, he thinks about Bruce. He isn't sure how he feels about him anymore—still guilty, but there is so much else. With Genis, he can at least hope that he can become what he should have been for him from the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events Rick is thinking about is the Destiny War, which you can find in the Avengers Forever collection, which among others has a future Genis and a future Melissa, who are both Avengers. And by the time the future Genis is from are together. And we are still waiting for that to happen, Marvel.


	43. Day 9, Part 3: Sixteen men on a dead man's chest / yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Genis is not a stranger to waking up in a bed that isn't his. He's even quite familiar with waking up without remembering where he'd fallen asleep, or what had been happening before that. But he doesn't have a hangover, and he definitely did not slip and start drinking, so that's not the case. Then he turns around and sees Rick sitting by the bed.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Rick says, and Genis picks up the pillow and shakes it in his direction.

All he accomplishes is making Rick snicker at him, so he lies down back and turns around so that Rick has a good view of his back.

“You fell asleep in the kitchen,” Rick informs him. “Carol brought you here.”

Genis sighs, and mumbles, “Good thing I never even met my dignity. It means I can't be embarrassed now.”

He wants to hide under the blanket, but that would mean hiding under the blanket of his father's girlfriend, and that's a new level of awkward. He wasn't aware there was that level of awkward.

“Come on,” Rick says, and pats his shoulder. “Rise and shine.”

“Um, no,” Genis says. “If I'm falling asleep in kitchens, it means I'm- Oh. Wait. It's a phrase.”

Rick pats his shoulder again, and then yawns.

Genis does sit up then, and looks at him. “You didn't stay up all the time just because of me?”

Rick tries to wave the question away, but destroys his own efforts by yawning in the middle of the gesture. “It's fine,” he says. “Really—I did mean that, even if I didn't write the song. Though maybe don't make a habit of sleeping on me. You are too heavy for that.”

“It's not a habit if it happens once,” Genis points out. He feels himself blush.

Rick nods. “It’s ok. Get washed and dressed, and I will take a nap. 

 

* * *

 

 

After using the tiny Captain’s bathroom Genis tiptoes – or tries to – to his cabin, to get dressed. But through the door he hears even breathing, and he doesn’t want to wake Melissa. So, he decides to go to the kitchen and get something to drink instead. Except, without Melissa or Rick translating all those Earth things, it’s quite hard to find something. He was not aware that there were actually instances where cosmic awareness made his life easier. No wondering what “extract of whey” is and if it is something a half Kree, half Eternal, mostly messed up metabolism can deal with.

He doesn’t know how long he has been poring over labels when a hand appears in his field of view and he hears Carol Danvers say, “This, this and this doesn't contain milk.”

It'd be easy to thank her and grab anything, but he'd have to ask eventually. “Um, I was actually checking if anything had alcohol. I think I can survive the rest,” he says.

“There's nothing alcoholic here,” she says. “I don't drink anymore.”

He manages to stop himself from staring at her, and instead mumbles, “Me neither.”

Genis isn't sure if he feels relieved, or bad about feeling relieved, or completely lost. He just stands there undecided, still not meeting her gaze, when Carol holds up a green can before him.

“Ice tea?” she asks.

Genis takes the can, and finally decides to look at her. She's giving him a worried look, so he tries to smile.

“When you met me in New York, during the Triune fiasco, I had been on the wagon” – when she notices he is not familiar with the term, she explains – “trying to quit drinking alcohol for just a few days. If I was a bitch to you then, it was because I was busy with myself.”

Genis notices he is staring and swallows hard. “I…” “It’s ok. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“That’s not it”, he finally manages to say. “People just keep apologising to me. And…”

She starts to say something, but there's a sudden flash of red and an automated voice announces _Debris ahead._ _It appears like someone ambushed a merchant here._

“Damn,” Carol Danvers snaps. “Harrison, start the scanners.” She looks at Genis again, and says, “Eat something quickly, we might be in for some rough flying in a moment.” 

And then she rushes towards the cockpit.

 

* * *

 

After a moment, Genis decides to follow her. Carol ignores him, beyond a “watch after Chewie, will you” over her shoulder. So, he straps into the co-pilot’s chair and holds the cat on his lap, while Carol and the AI confront the two ramshackle pirate vessels.

“Haffensye”, she curses.

When he doesn’t understand, she explains with clenched teeth. “They have grudge on me, because I shut down their slaving operations. They don’t stand a chance, but they might not care.”

“Harrison, activate Shields. And give me the starboard laser on manual.”

It’s quite impressive to watch her engage the pirates in a dog fight, moving the rather sluggish shuttle craft like a starfighter. He could blow those pirate vessels out of the sky in a heartbeat, if he had his powers, but it really does not seem necessary. Except then it turns out there are actually three pirate vessels and although the first two are crippled, the third one manages to punch through the shields and damage the manoeuvring thrusters, leaving them a sitting … whatever.

In a flash of light, Carol Danver’s clothes turn into an armoured suit, all red and blue with the star of Hala on her chest.

“Harrison, activate airlock.”

Before Genis can even start fiddling with the dampener on his wrist, she turns around and shoots him a commanding glare, while a helmet forms around her face. “And you stay put.”

Then she is gone and Genis has trouble breathing. 

 

* * *

 

 

Fighting in space remains eerie—she cannot hear the sounds she expects, nor feel the rush of air against her face. But she knows how to push such thoughts out of her mind, and focus on the situation at hand.

She dodges the shots she knows she will not be able to absorb, as she closes the distance between herself and the first ship, the corona of light gathering around her fists. She is just a few meters away, when she stops and shoots.

The blast tears through the hull, leaving the first ship crippled. Carol lets it limp away, as she turns towards the other two, and barely grins. They're actually shooting missiles at her. Obviously, they had not learned their lesson—this time, she does not bother dodging and simply grabs one, and tosses it at the other one.

She doesn't wait for the blast, and rushes past towards the next ship, another blast building around her fists. This time, she does not stop, as she fires, doesn't watch the blast opening the hull to the void. She banks sharply and flies towards the last ship, but it seems the pirates have lost their nerve.

The ship powers its thrusters, and flees at full speed.

 

* * *

 

Carol thinks that's probably the end of it, except she has only taken three steps inside, before Harrison informs her that the pirates managed to breach his firewalls, and while the infection has been purged, he was disabled long enough for Yon-Rogg to be freed from the stasis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the pirates mentioned in this chapter show up in the Kelly-Sue Donnick run of Captain Marvel.
> 
> And Genis and Carol met briefly in the 1998 Avengers run.


	44. Day 9, Part 4: I know your intentions / I've seen the way you work / Since you love destruction / This is gonna hurt

He's on a space ship—he had been on enough of those to be able to tell he's on one even moments after being freed from stasis while throwing up his latest meal. The deck is vibrating slightly beneath his hands and knees, telling him that the ship is moving.

He finally manages to look up, but the design is unfamiliar—not Kree, not Skrull, not Shi'ar, or any of the lesser minor races he can think of.

Nevermind. A ship is a ship, and whatever beings had spawned it, it will serve to get him somewhere where he can gather assets again, and find a way to punish all those who stood in his way.

Though he has no longer the power of the Psych-Magnitron, he takes consolation in the fact that Mar-vell's human whore had killed herself to take it from him. He thinks of that, as he works on unlocking the door. He is no engineer, but the mechanism does not appear-

The door hisses open, and he stands face to face with his daughter.

“Don't even think about it,” Una hisses.

“Foolish child,” he barks, and puts his hand on her shoulder to push her out of his way. Una resists, and even if she is being inexplicably difficult, he does not wish to hurt her. “Get out of the way.”

“Haven't you done enough, you old idiot?” she snaps. “If you try to leave this room, you will only get yourself killed. And I won't mourn you.”

That stops him dead in his tracks---does she know that he’s killed his own kind? They may have been insignificant communications staff, who’d belittled him, but they were Kree. And being disrespectful to a superior officer was not an offence officially punishable by death. Especially, if the Supreme Public Accuser was less than fond of you. And knowing what kind of a grudge-bearing bastard Ronan the Accuser had always been, Yon-Rogg had no doubt that there was a death warrant for him. “Do not be ungrateful, Una-”

“Why exactly should I be grateful towards you?” Una hisses. “I could have had a normal life, if you hadn't lied to me, and kept me hidden like some- some dirty secret. And then you got yourself killed.”

“I did not get killed,” Yon-Rogg points out. The more difficult matters—lying and secluding her will have to wait. He doesn't have time for any of this.

“No,” she growls. “You couldn't get that right, could you? Zey is dead because of you. He _had_ to get revenge. He had to go after Genis, and just like you he couldn't get that right either.”

Yon-rogg freezes. Zey is dead? And he is finding this out only now? She couldn't have told him this earlier, on the human space-station?

“He's here, isn't he?” he growls, as he grabs Una's wrist. She tries to tug it away. “It isn't enough that you insult me like this. You're traipsing around with a half-breed fathered by a traitor with some sort of accident.”

“You will only get yourself killed,” she repeats. “Don't you understand? You can't win. Just let them bring you back to the Empire. You can't restore our family's standing, or fix any of the mistakes you made, so at least don't add another one to the list.”

He has no time for this. And he can't go to the Empire—not after throwing a stupid tantrum, and killing the operators.

“Listen for one moment, child,” he hisses back at her. “If I go back, all I will accomplish is dying. Help me—is your honour truly worth nothing to you that you would let your father die and consort with-”

The answer is hard to misinterpret in its viciousness—Yon-Rogg crumples up with about as much dignity as a common lout as he cradles his anatomy protectively. That is what one gets from teaching daughters how to protect oneself.

“Spare me lectures on honour,” she says. “Or consorting. I'm my own person.”

The pain eases some, and Yon-Rogg surges to his feet again. For all her anger, Una has no proper combat training, and he is done coddling the ungrateful brat. He wraps her in a choke hold and she doesn't know how to free herself from his grip.

“If you will not help me out of your free will, I will make you, child,” he growls. “Now be silent. I have no time for your tantrums.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Melissa wakes from the sound of Una’s voice. She's yelling something in Kree, and from the admittedly short period of knowing her, she guesses this is not a typical occurrence. The Kree woman is pretty collected most of the time, and now she sounds half-angry, half-scared. There's another voice—a man's, but she doesn't recognize it.

She gets up and creeps to the door, presses herself against the wall, and opens it with one hand. It slides open almost soundlessly, and she carefully peers out.

She glimpses Una and the Kree terrorist—her father—struggling. He's dragging her towards the cockpit. Una twists in his grip and she spots Melissa in the door. Her eyes go wide, and she yells, “He's going after Genis!”

That alerts the other Kree, and he turns his head, just as Melissa opens her mouth and screams. She doesn't really bother with anything creative—the sonic blast hits him straight in the nose, and there's a wet crunch as it connects.

The man stumbles, and Una finally manages to tear herself free.

Melissa doesn't stop yelling, and her augmented vocal cords convert the sounds into a solid sonic ram that she slams into the Kree man. He hits the wall, and slumps down, dazed by the assault. Blood is dripping from his nose, down his lip and chin, as he looks up.

But even dazed as he is, he's still a trained soldier, and when Melissa takes a quick breath, he charges. He's stronger than her, but not by so much that it would be an insurmountable problem. Melissa twists out of the way, ducks under his arms, and let's gravity do most of the job for her.

She turns around, just as she hears the thump of a body hitting the floor, and then sees the door of the cockpit slide open behind the Kree. Genis peers out—he must have heard her yelling—and the Kree spots him too. He gets to his feet, and Melissa opens her mouth to scream again, but that proves unnecessary.

Suddenly, the corridor is full of tentacles. They wrap themselves around the Kree, and pull him towards Chewie. Her muzzle is opened wide, and somehow all of the pseudopods are sprouting from inside her.

There is a rather wet sound, as they pull inside along with Yon-Rogg.

Una, Melissa and Genis stand in silence, watching the flerken with wide eyes.

Chewie looks back, opens her muzzle again and one tentacle—with the Kree terrorist cocooned in it—emerges. She waves with it, while the Kree yells something, and then pulls back.

“Can someone please adopt me now?” Una manages. “I want to trade my father for a better model.”

Then she slumps to her knees and starts crying. Melissa makes a few steps towards her, but Genis gets to Una first and sits down on the floor next to her. He pulls her into a hug, and holds her while she sobs.

“I'm not trading mine,” he says softly. “But if you want to, I can ask him if he wants to adopt you. And then convince Chewie to spit yours for a while, so you can tell him that.”

  

* * *

 

 

Carol resists the urge to start cooing over Chewie, when she finds out she ate Yon-Rogg. It would be rather tactless, given that one of the people explaining what happened is his daughter. The explanation contains a rather unusual amount of, admittedly angry, sniffling.

“Uh, I can try convincing Chewie to spit him out,” she says when Genis, Una and Melissa finish explaining what happened. 

“No, it's fine,” Una says with all the dignity someone with puffy eyes and mascara lines down her cheeks can manage. “I don't want to see him ever again.”

Which is a sentiment about Yon-Rogg Carol shares.

“But what will the Kree say?”, Melissa asks. “They are expecting us to conduct a prisoner transfer. They might not be happy with this way to transport him.”

“I may be able to explain transporting him in a flerken,” Carol points out, “it will not harm him and knowing the Kree, they have nothing too comfortable in mind for him anyway.”

“He said they will execute him,” Una replies with a shrug, still sniffling angry. “It’s maybe a bit undignified, but they shouldn’t take it as an insult. It’s not nearly on the same scale as repelling several invasions with weapons barely out of the stone age.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yon-Rogg's killing of communication officers happened during the first Captain Marvel series with Carol Danvers as Captain Marvel.


	45. Day 9, Part 5: Like how a single word / Can make a heart open

They all retreat back to their rooms once Una seems to have her emotions under control again. Melissa then starts up her laptop and they study—or well, she does and Genis realizes that he picked up a million of weird things just by being cosmically aware. It prompts a comment that if he doesn't want to be a superhero anymore, he could probably become a professional winner of trivia quiz shows. Other than that, they don't talk all that much—nor do they need to, it seems.

Eventually though, it grows late—but Genis isn't tired. His mind is wandering somewhere, even as Melissa wishes him good night.

Even when she is fast asleep in her bunk, her breathing even, Genis can't sleep, or maybe he doesn't want to. He still remembers the nightmare and is afraid of getting another one, now that his father is no longer there to keep them at bay. He does not relish the prospect. Instead, he tries meditating. He might as well start getting used to it again, since he will eventually stop wearing the power dampener, and then he will need to do it regularly anyway. So he sits down on his bunk, legs crossed and tries to empty his mind.

He really should have it easy there, he thinks bitterly. Except it never is. He always spends at least ten minutes trying to clear his thoughts, while they stubbornly linger over the things he'd rather not think about, or the most embarrassing events of the day.

And now he keeps thinking about something Una had mentioned—about growing up alone, locked away. He isn't sure why—as soon as he was capable he had left and... well, mostly ended up in one mess after another.

It's like poking at a scab. Once he starts, he can't stop thinking about it, and slowly he does make the connection.

Phyla.

What Una said makes him think of Phyla.

Mother had said that she made her because he had been such a success, but he had never believed that, had he? No, Phyla was the one who had the right idea—she was meant to be the one where Elysius would fix all the mistakes she had made with Genis.

So, she stayed on Titan—trained to use her powers, unlike him.

Suddenly, he wishes he had never thought of that—it had been easier when he had avoided the subject of why his sister exists, because as soon as he touches it, the voice from his dream is back.

_We made you, and we can break you._

He remembers fingers on his throat and his sister’s harsh words.

Abruptly, he gets up. Meditating was terrible idea. Buried things should stay buried. 

 

* * *

 

 

Melissa isn't sure what wakes her up. It might be the hiss of the closing door, or possibly footsteps. There was also a sound like a crash, but that might have been in her dreams. Somewhat blearily she peers down, and sees nothing in the dark. She quietly climbs down, and checks again—the bed doesn't look slept in and is empty.

There's a slight stab of irritation that he didn't wake her up, but she knows that it's not lack of trust on his part, but likely that he thinks he is a nuisance, so she chases the thoughts away. The Invisible Woman had told her this would not be easy, didn't she?

She leaves the room and tries not to be hasty. Her bare feet barely make a sound, as she walks through the corridor, and she regrets not putting on socks or shoes halfway towards the kitchen. The floor is cold.

She blinks as she enters, the light too bright for a moment.

“Hey,” Genis says, as he looks away from the view port. “Did I wake you up?”

She wraps her arms around him. “Not particularly. I’d rather you wake me if you cannot sleep.”

Genis pulls her close and kisses her hair. “I’d feel egotistical doing that. Silly. Like nuisance.”

“Well, I am awake now. And my feet are frozen.”

He picks her up, and this time he doesn't seem to have any problems holding her up. Melissa wraps her arms around his neck and giggles into his shoulder. “My feet are still cold.”

“Shh, I'm thinking if I should deactivate the dampener to do something about it, or if it's better if I carry you back to bed,” Genis replies with a grin.

“You have so many practical skills,” Melissa answers and kisses his cheek.

“Just a few,” Genis says, turning his face so he can catch her lips with his. This time they kiss much longer and much more passionately. They do pull apart eventually, and Genis sets her down on the table. “Let me see your feet.”

He leans forward, and kisses the tip of her nose, before kneeling before her. He grins as he brushes his fingers down her calf and ankle. And then lower, against the sole of her foot. “Like an icicle,” he says, and gently exhales on her toes to warm them, before softly kissing them. Melissa giggles at the feather light touch, and leans forward to run her hand through his hair.

At the edge of her awareness, she notes that there's a hint of silver at the roots.

“So... Do you want me to give you some advice?” Una asks.

Melissa squeals and pulls away and so does Genis. He lands on his bottom and Melissa's foot brushes his nose none too gently.

“You know, I can probably give more advice on what male Kree like than you,” he says, somewhat testily, holding a hand over his face. “And first of all, they like girls who knock first.”

Una gives him a speculative look and tilts her head.

“Did you just say you slept with a man, or did you mean it in the sense that you're male and know better because of that?” she asks.

“Actually, it's more that cosmic awareness applies to anatomy too,” Genis says, as he gets up. His nose seems still intact. “And we're talking about me, and I definitely know more about what I like than you do.” Then, he adds, “Besides Steck'ee only sometimes changed into a man.”

Occasionally, Melissa forgets he isn't human, and then he says something like that matter-of-factly. Even with mutants, and Inhumans all around, the idea of people changing their sex just like that seems... odd. The fact that he did sleep with a man somehow barely registers next to that.

“You slept with a _Skrull_?” Una asks.

“Kree and their obsession with Skrulls,” Genis mumbles and sighs theatrically. Louder, he says, “Not every single shape-shifter in the galaxy is a Skrull, you know?”

Una gives him another look that Melissa thinks is a shame will go unrecorded, but doesn't seem ready to concede defeat yet. So she decides to do something about that, before the moment passes.

“What makes you think I need advice?” she says, as she jumps off the table and leans against Genis. And since Una is eyeing them in a very curious way, Melissa adds: “We’ve been a couple for a while.”

Una pouts. It's a very attractive pout, and for a moment, Melissa feels very much the girl from a trailer park in Middle-Of-Nowhere, Wyoming. Some things just don't want to go away, it seems.

“Well, I suppose I will leave you to yourselves,” Una says as she withdraws. “Don't stay up too long, children.”

“Yes, grandma,” Genis calls after her. “And don't forget your--... what's the thing old people use to stay warm?” 

 

* * *

 

 

“You're right,” Genis says, once they're both in their room. “I should wake you up. It's going to be much less...”

“Crowded?” Melissa guesses. She feels his arms encircle her from behind, and the vibration of his chest when he chuckles.

“That's one way to put it,” he says, while she brushes her fingers against his forearm.

Melissa turns around in his embrace, and reaches around his waist. She isn't really ready to let him go yet. In fact, she doesn't want to let him go for the night and sleep alone. Which she will have to, since the bunks are just too narrow for both of them to fit into one comfortably. If they had been two beds, they could just...

“We can take off the mattresses and put them on the floor next to one another,” she says after a moment’s thought.

Genis grins back. “Yeah, we can do that.”

They pull away, and set to work. It doesn't take them all that long, and there isn't much space on the floor left, but then it's not like they are going to be needing most of it for anything. They push the mattresses together and build a nest piled with their pillows and blankets. Melissa is crawls under the blanket first, Genis joins her a moment later, and they curl up against each other.

“Your shape-shifting friend—can you tell me about her a bit?” Melissa asks impulsively.

Genis doesn't reply right away. “Did it ever happen to you that you thought someone was your friend, and then it turned out you didn't know them at all?”

Melissa frowns in the dark, and makes a small “Mmm.”

“Yes,” she says, and thinks of Angar, and all the others. “For the longest time, I don't think I even understood what love and friendship were—I thought that if someone was nice to me, then it meant I had to give something in return. And people used that, and then they'd abandon me as soon as trouble started.” She swallows. “I might have done the same in their position.”

For a long while, Genis is silent and gently cradles her against his chest, rubbing her back. “But you didn’t. And you saved me.”

Melissa feels her eyes grow moist. “Thank you.”

“It wasn't anything dramatic with Steck'ee. It just didn't work out,” Genis finally says after they were silent for a long time, just holding tight to each other. There is no bitterness in his voice, just a quiet sadness. “She just wanted someone to party and have fun. Someone who would always be amusing. When I decided to quit drinking and stopped trying to pretend the world was all fun and games, she dumped me.”

Then after a moment, he adds, “Um... She had potted plants. And somehow managed to put them ridiculously high, and would ask me to do all sorts of stuff with them, because she didn't want to put them where she could reach them, and I can fly.”

He sounds rather put out about that, and the image of him pouting while watering some flowers while floating near a ceiling pops into Melissa’s head. She can’t help but giggle.

“I am not doing that for anyone ever again,” Genis grumbles.

“Don't worry, I can fly myself,” she says, and reaches up to stroke his cheek. “And I think I actually had to use the last potted plant I had as a weapon, so I don't have any.” She tries to remember for a moment, and then nods. “Yeah. I threw it at the fake pizza delivery guy who tried to rob my neighbour.”

Genis yawns, and then says, “Sorry, that's not boring, but I think I am getting sleepy. And um... sorry if I wake you up?”

Melissa cuddles closer to him and takes his hand, lacing her fingers with his. “It’s alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, sorry about the schedule slip-up. Christmas season chaos happened. Next chapter follows on Sunday, and next week we will be back on schedule. 
> 
> Steck'ee is a character from the Captain Marvel 1995-1995 run. She shows up later in the 2000s run.


	46. Day 10, Part 1: And all those things I didn't say / Wrecking balls inside my brain

This night, Genis doesn’t dream. When Melissa wakes in the morning, they are still curled up against each other and he is fast asleep, a smile on his face. She watches him a bit until a purring sound distracts her.

She wriggles aside a bit, so she can look past his shoulder and sees the big fluffy cat curled up on the blanket. Green eyes open and give her a bored look.

Melissa rolls on her back and looks up at Chewie. ‘So,’ she whispers, pitching her voice beyond human – and hopefully Kree – hearing, ‘you trust Rick Jones to look after your kitten, but not me?’

The flerken ‘harrumphs’ and keeps looking at her. ‘Or are you our chaperone now?’ the woman suggests.

This cat responds by starting to lick Genis’s ear. Melissa isn't sure if she's exasperated or amused, though she should have known that getting an answer out of a cat—even an alien one—is not going to work.

'Be like that, then,' she says. 

 

* * *

 

 

She’s dozing, kind of enjoying to just be able to lie in bed lazily without having to worry about schedules and meetings and whatever way to be snide her colleagues will come up now, when her phone gives a quiet hum. Another advantage of her upgrades is that she doesn’t need to turn her phone to silent, because except for maybe dogs or cats, nobody will hear what she hears. Chewie promptly glares at her.

She extricates herself from the blankets and reaches for the phone. There is only a handful of things that she allowed to move past her filter and not get the “I’m not in office, please try again in two weeks” message. Melissa smiles when she sees the familiar e-mail address next to the lonely message in her inbox. It has an attachment again, so Melissa checks it first—just as she was expecting, it turns out to be more photos. There's lots of Hallie—but then that is a running theme.

This time Karla did deign to let herself be photographed—she's leaning nonchalantly against... a tree? It looks like a purple tree to Melissa. Then, there is Norbert's hand. Again. That's been a running theme too.

Abe and Erik seem to be together on the other ones, and as far as Melissa can tell the plant-life definitely doesn't look like it's from Earth.

That would explain the pink soup from the last e-mail.

Finally, there is another of what looks like a nest containing round purple and pink globes.

Having gone through all the photos, she starts reading the e-mail itself. Abe wishes her and Genis all the best – turns out her diplomatic hints were no way diplomatic enough – and he wants to know how Carol is, while Hallie and Erik are curious about the new Thor. And more difficult questions to answer. Melissa grimaces.

The next part of the e-mail is about them--apparently, the Thunderbolts plus the Winter Soldier were tracking... something. They had thought it was hidden on the planet with the pink soup, which, in an interesting coincidence, was actually in the Kree galaxy.

It turned out it was the planet.

Melissa feels a moment of worry, but as she reads on, it becomes clear that it wasn’t all that dangerous. It sounds like one of those weird stories she used to hear that no one believed in—but apparently, they were there to make sure baby-pseudo-planets hatch unhindered and help them into space.

That would be the purple and pink globes, Melissa thinks. She really would have liked to see it.

And then, she thinks about the communicator Steve Rogers had left for her. They were in space. She was in space. The Winter Soldier used to be Bucky—Captain America's partner, and later Captain America... 

 

* * *

 

 

Some people are willing to eat pizza from the microwave for breakfast—such as Rick Jones, Carol finds out. Una leaves with a bowl of cereal, deciding she does not want to smell like heated dead animal—something she states loudly as she passes Melissa in the door.

The young woman is carrying what appears to be a textbook and a notebook, and sets it on the table, before starting to inspect the fridge. Carol pours herself more coffee and notes that the textbook is about English literature.

“Want some coffee?” she asks.

“Yes, please,” Melissa answers.

“Can I have some too?” Rick asks. He then peers at the textbook and adds, “Well, at least with literature you can show off in conversation.”

Carol looks at him quizzically, since this seems to be a follow up to a conversation she was not involved in.

“I'm working on finishing high school,” Melissa says, opening her textbook. “Rick thinks it's a waste of time, since I already have a job.”

“It's not like they will give her a rise for finishing high school,” Rick says with a shrug.

“That's not the point,” Melissa sighs.

“The fact that you will have finished it, is,” Carol says. “I enlisted so I could go to college—that I found out I loved being in the Air Force didn't change that I still finished college.”

Melissa turns her head and smiles at Carol. The smile looks quite grateful, so Carol not merely hands her the coffee, but also puts a hand on her shoulder for a moment. “Illegitimi non carborundum,” she says with a grin.

“Hey, even I know that one,” Rick protests. “I did read Terry Pratchett.”

“And I read The Handmaid's Tale,” Melissa says. “Which I wouldn't have, if I hadn't decided to finish high school.”

Rick opens his mouth and then looks at Carol and Melissa, and closes it. “I'm not going to win this, so I think I will retreat gracefully with some dignity.”

As he does, Melissa starts giggling, while Carol chuckles.

Once the door closed behind him, Carol looks at Melissa with a frown. “Weren’t you already a freshman at ESU when Abner Jenkins was reconstituting the Thunderbolts?”

Melissa nods, her expression subdued. “I was. But I never did finish High School or take SATs. I got the place because SHIELD has the right to send people there for studies and they gave me a grant.” She gets up and fills a glass with water at the tap, then turns around and continues. “I had to take a break when I had to lead the Thunderbolts and then between Civil War and everything else, that place was no longer available to me.”

Carol nods. “And now you want to do it on your own, so nobody can take it away from you?”

“Yes.” The young woman rubs her shoulders as if cold. “I’m through with gift horses and alms.”

Which is probably the best she can do, given how precarious her position at SHIELD seems to be at the moment. “That’s the spirit, kid.”

Then, the young woman opens her textbook and from the glimpse Carol catches she’s dealing with basic literary analysis using various examples from various classics.

“Obligatory Shakespeare?” Carol asks. Despite all the time that passed since she finished school, the classics remain a fixture of education. They aren’t called classics for nothing.

“I guess some things never change?” Melissa answers, looking up. “Well... It looks like he invented about half the tropes that show up anywhere...”

“It was required reading when I went to school, too,” Carol says, “hence, 'obligatory'.”

“You still remember this stuff?” Melissa notes with a surprised note in her voice.

Carol shrugs. “I do.” She peers at the textbook again. “Would you like some help?”

“Um... would you mind checking my essay?” Melissa asks, pushing it towards her. “Genis knows lots of weird stuff, and had some trivia about the interpretations of Iago, and I don't know what else, but he can't really tell me if what I write is what would be expected of me. I mean, his information might come from someone who wrote about this in 3037 and he wouldn’t know.”

Carol takes the sheet of paper and starts inspecting it. “Let's see...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We mentioned we are going to address the whole "Freshman Melissa" from New Thunderbolts. This is our attempt at an explanation.


	47. Day 10, Part 2: And I don't really care if nobody else believes / 'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me

Even if Carol is quite patient and explains things, and gives hints, Melissa can't help feeling self-conscious. It keeps happening—she wonders if she will sound stupid or uneducated when speaking about complicated topics or sophisticated stuff. She’s confident enough when dealing with superhero matters or tactics, but literature, that’s a new field for her.

“Your essay is quite good,” Carol says eventually. “Though I think I can see some room for improvement. If you’d like to, I could give you some tips.”

“That's very kind of you,” Melissa says. She sighs and looks at the essay. “I... I'm just not sure how much it will help. Sometimes, I just feel like a girl from a trailer park really has nothing to say about Shakespeare.”

“Why not?” Carol asks. “Shakespeare didn’t just write for the rich and educated—he wrote for everyone. And besides, if a subject is only talked about by people from one background, then eventually they all end up agreeing with each other, repeating the same over and over, and patting themselves on the back for it.”

There is a point to this, Melissa supposes. “I guess it’s just that I worry I don’t know enough.”

“The thing about literature, is that anyone can read it, and anyone can have their own ideas about it,” Carol replies. “If you carry out something the author didn’t intend out of their book, then it doesn’t mean it you didn’t read it right.”

Melissa considers this. “But didn’t the author want to say something specific?”

“Usually, yes, but they got to do it—it’s on them if they made it clear for others or not,” Carol replies and shrugs. “If they didn’t, then they don’t get to complain people read something different than they’ve intended.”

Melissa can’t help but to smile at that. “Somehow, I don’t think authors agree with that.”

“Not all,” Carol replies. “Personally, I found that when you’re writing fiction, people will find very smart symbolism you didn’t intentionally put in a scene on occasions.”

“You wrote a book?” Melissa asks, surprised.

“Several,” Carol replies. “Most of them were non-fiction, but I did write a science fiction novel once.” Then, before Melissa can says anything, she adds, “Don’t feel obliged to read them. I can lend you my e-reader, but if you find them not to be your thing that won’t make me feel bad.”

Melissa becomes aware she is staring at Carol and tries to say something that doesn’t sound like hero worship. Fortunately, the AI chimes in and stops her from embarrassing herself.

“We will reach the rendezvous in two hours,” it announces.

“Damn, it's time to hide Rick,” Carol says. “And tell Genis and Una to keep their heads low. We can go back to this, once we've given the Kree their little ray of sunshine.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes, Carol wonders if the reason Tony Stark never became a criminal is because he found it too easy and thus boring. Who else would realise that hiding people in shielded floor compartments will draw attention to the fact that there was something shielded without reason?

Hiding them in the coolant tank, where the density of their bodies blends into the density of the coolant, which also masks their body heat is quite genius and speaks of someone who has given the matter a lot of thought.

Of course, it also means a lot of discomfort for the hidden person, who has to breathe through tubes and stay in total darkness, but it’s not like Tony has to stay in there, right?

Rick doesn’t fail to point that out. A lot. Loudly. In a whiny voice. Finally, Melissa has enough.

“Fine, stay on deck. But don’t complain if the Kree decide to take you because they decide to screw around with your brain some more,” she snaps.

Rick falls silent at this, and decides to avoid her gaze, but gives up arguing. He dons his breathing mask and submerges.

Genis is safely in his and Melissa's room, with the vital task of beating Carol's record in any puzzle game he can, while Una sits in the kitchen, because she does not want to see her father by accident. Ever again.

Carol and Melissa look at each other. They're as ready for the Kree as they can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Rick is being hidden because the Kree want his brain for the Supreme Intelligence since way way back, because he has the Destiny Force. The concept as described by any character in the comic where it shows up can be pretty much summed up as "power of the plot says so". Anyone sensible would want it.


	48. Day 10, Part 3: It's not like you to say sorry / I was waiting on a different story

The Kree escort ship is waiting for them at the coordinates provided by Abigail Brand, around five parsecs from the border of the Kree galaxy. Melissa wonders how you can draw borders in space, but it’s probably no less difficult than drawing them in a desert. A small ferry detaches and docks with Harrison. As Melissa and Carol watch in front of the airlock, a small group enters—all dressed in uniforms that are mostly white. A tall woman with a nasty scar covering almost half of her face— leads them—and unlike the others, whose uniforms have purple parts, hers has blue trimmings, including what appears to be a sun with a ring.

She's not the only woman, but she is the only blue Kree, and one of the three that have white hair.

“Colonel Val-Narr,” she barks. “Here to retrieve the prisoner, Yon-Rogg, former Colonel of the Kree Empire.” She has a stronger accent than Una, but it sounds quite similar—a bit like she expects the words to be shorter.

“Colonel Carol Danvers,” Carol responds in exactly the same tone. “Also known as Captain Marvel, with Agent Melissa Gold.”

They stand exactly opposing each other, and each has her hands laced behind their back in a parade rest. Val-Narr nods. Carol nods back.

“The prisoner?” the Kree officer asks, while two soldiers in white and purple step forward.

“He had a bit of an accident,” Carol says. 

Val-Narr's remaining eyebrow raises. “That is unfortunate,” she says in a bland voice.

“He lived,” Carol adds.

Melissa wonders if Val-Narr will say it's unfortunate again, but she seems to resist the temptation, and settles for an “Oh?”

Chewie takes it as her cue, it seems, and wriggles out of Melissa's hold. She jumps down and opens her muzzle. For a moment, there is a lot of tentacles, and then Yon-Rogg is lying on the floor, covered in some sort of purple goo and hairballs.

Melissa keeps her expression neutral, as she watches the Kree react. Val-Narr doesn't even bat an eye-lash, but the two soldiers recoil visibly. The others seem mostly relieved to be away from the cat. Yon-Rogg doesn't appear to be fully conscious and moves feebly, but makes no effort to get up.

Val-Narr studies him for a moment. She looks up at Carol.

Carol looks back at her.

“Take him,” Val-Narr finally says.

The two soldiers hoist Yon-Rogg up and half-carry, half-drag him out.

Val-Narr moves to the side, her hand resting on a locker for a moment, and Melissa hears _something_. She isn't sure what, though.

She turns to her and Carol and nods, then. “Colonel.”

“Colonel,” Carol responds and nods back. 

 

* * *

 

 

So much for this. Carol watches the ferry recede and land in the escort ship’s hangar. Chewie sits on the command console and looks smug. Carol scratches her ears. “Well, I guess you are glad to be rid of him, right? Must have given you heartburn…” Chewie burps and licks her chops.

Behind her, Melissa giggles. “I really don’t want to know how this works. Everything about it seems to be too much information.”

“Well, I could ask Reed if he can figure it out…” Chewie glares at her. “OK, OK, I won’t. Keep your secrets.”

That’s when Melissa puts a hand on her arm and a finger on her lips. Carol frowns and nods, then follows her out of the cockpit. She fishes for an innocuous topic of conversation, since sudden silence might be suspicious, if they really are listened to.

“Did you ever have a cat?” she asks. “You seem to know a lot about how they think.”

“Abe has a cat,” Melissa answers, clearly getting what Carol is doing. “His neighbours were looking after her when he joined the Thunderbolts, but I caught him sneaking out of Four Freedom Plaza visiting Sonny.”

“I think I’ve met him.” While they walk down to the airlock, Carol isn’t paying much attention to their conversation, but that seems like Abe Jenkins. “And he snuck out to visit him?”

“Yeah. Like a schoolboy. When I caught him, he took me with him. I’d never had a pet before, so I was rather curious.”

They reach the airlock and Melissa kneels in front of the locker containing their space suits. She cocks her head and runs her hands over it. When she gets up again, there is a small circuit on her finger tip.

“So, how did the visits go?” Carol asks, as she takes the little bug.

“We visited her a couple of times. It was so cute when he would purr for me. Like, I could actually do something someone liked.” There’s a bit of a wistful note in her voice.

They return to the cockpit and put the chip in Harrison’s analyser. “Did you give him treats?”

“No. I couldn’t buy any, Citizen V ran a tight ship, just going shopping was not really in the cards. That’s why Abe was sneaking out, after all.”

The results appear on the screen and Carol takes a deep breath. “It’s not a bug, just a tracker.” Melissa nods. “Ok, so we can get the others out, once the Kree have left.”

“And then we need to think about what to do, because just destroying it will only make the Kree suspicious,” Carol says with a sigh. “I guess it was a bit naïve to assume they wouldn’t be interested in what we do afterwards.” For now, she does what she should be doing if they had no secret agenda, and plots a course in the general direction of earth.

The younger woman nods. “Let’s just not get paranoid yet.”

“So, for the record, how is Sonny doing now?”

  

* * *

 

 

Rick is bedraggled and unhappy when pulled from his hiding place. He runs for the shower, commenting that next time, the Kree are welcome to extract his brain before he ever goes in there again.

“I guess there is such a thing like too brilliant,” Carol says with a sigh, while brewing coffee and tea in the kitchen. Genis watches her with interest, still playing Riddle Quest on Carol’s phone. Una has excused herself, claiming she needs to take a shower from breathing the same air as her father. The mascara lines on her face speak a different language, but Carol does not comment.

While she potters about, she notices Genis is watching her.

“Something is wrong,” he comments.

“Well, something might be wrong. But let’s wait for the others.” Carol answers and sits down. She peers onto the screen. “How do you like it?”

Genis looks up as he finishes the round. “It's... I don't think I can stop now,” he says. “It's like it's beaming a message that says 'one more turn' into my head.”

“Well, remind me to show you Society Builder,” Carol laughs. Chewie chooses this moment, and to Carol's amusement, jumps onto the table in exactly the way that gets her between Genis and Carol's phone.

“Um... I'm done for today?” Genis guesses, and the flerken meows in what either is agreement or a demand to be fed. Possibly both. “Well, okay, but I can't put the phone away very well, when you're sitting on my arms.”

Chewie mews again and gets to her hind paws so she can lick his nose.

“You seem to have her distracted from the fridge,” Carol says half-way experimentally. Chewie will likely be annoyed if she picks her up, but a mention of the fridge might lure her away.

And it does. The flerken jumps off and trots over to Carol to start rubbing against her legs and purr like a small car. Well, Chewie does deserve a treat, so Carol complies and opens a can of tuna for her. “That’s for not digesting Yon-Rogg, which would have led to a lot of awkward questions.”

Melissa comes in next, having changed back to her costume from her SHIELD uniform. She puts a hand on Genis’s shoulder. “I guess you should look for Rick. I’m not sure he’s alright, he’s been under the shower for the last fifteen minutes straight.”

“I'll check if he didn't dissolve,” Genis says, as he gets up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abe's cat is in fact canon, and shows up in the first run of Thunderbolts. And demonstrates a staggering lack of taste by sitting on Zemo.


	49. Day 10, Part 4:  There's a blaze of light in every word / It doesn't matter which you heard

Rick is still in the bathroom when Genis opens the door. He gives him an offended look, although why he'd be upset Genis cannot begin to fathom. They shared a body, and it's not like human men are anatomically different from Eternals or Kree on the outside.

“I'll be dressed in a moment,” Rick says. “You can use the bathroom then.”

He sounds rather irritated.

“That's not why I'm here,” Genis says. This is going to be tricky, because this is one of those situations where he has to think what to say before he says it, least Rick decides to feel offended. And human men get offended a lot, as far as Genis can tell. “I'm supposed to put you in a bucket, in case you melted.”

“I'm fine,” Rick answers, sounding as grumpy as before. “As fine as someone without powers can be after spending hours in the dark breathing through a tube.”

Okay. So this is either the thing about Rick being ordinary and resenting others for it, which Genis is familiar with but can mostly just refrain from trying to point out that it's just being obnoxious. He didn't ask to be a walking WMD, after all. Or it's about being in sub-merged in the dark, which is definitely something Genis would rather never have to do.

“Hey, you're handling that better than I would have,” Genis says eventually and manages not to start saying that it's not saying much. He probably shouldn't undermine his own compliments.

Rick sighs heavily. “I'm sorry, it's not really your fault. Scratch that, it's not your fault at all.” He then gestures to his lower body awkwardly. “Can you maybe wait a moment outside? The towel might slip any moment.”

Genis turns around and reaches for the door. “Sure. Just… why do you mind? We shared a body. I know what you look like beneath that towel, just like you know about me.”

Rick is silent for quite a while. “Um...” He says. “Er. I might not have grown up?”

Which tells Genis absolutely nothing. Well, possibly, aside from the fact that whatever it is, it's even more embarrassing to Rick than being in a towel.

“Seriously, I can claim that,” he grumbles. “I'm _five_. You had years to grow up.”

“Can we maybe talk about something else?” Rick replies. “Like, how Kree want my brain?”

“We should lock them in a room with you,” Genis grumbles. “I'm sure they'd realize their mistake after a day.”

“Which would be about a day too late for me.” Rick slams the door shut behind Genis who looks at it somewhat bewildered. He stands there for a couple of moments, then shrugs and turns to leave, when the door opens again.

“Look, I’m sorry. Appreciate the sentiment of you checking on me, but human males don’t really appreciate being seen when they are weak. Or falling apart. Or both. Sorry if that’s something you don’t understand.” Rick sighs. “I guess it makes you a much more sensible person than me.”

“Ah. Right, like with the stupid truth and dare thing,” Genis says.

Rick has the good grace to blush before ducking behind the door again. 

 

* * *

 

 

Eventually, they all gather in the galley again. Genis makes an attempt at preparing something to eat, but after a while Rick chases him away and takes over. He even makes the effort not to make pizza and heroically follows instructions pinned to one of the walls on how to make some sort of rabbit food.

“Oh, I didn't know you could make proper food,” Una says, clearly back to her old self.

In the spirit of heroically suffering, Rick does not rise to the bait. Okay, maybe the fact that he is trying to figure out how much “some nuts” is might also have something to do with it. But only a bit.

“Enough to fit into your hand,” Carol says matter-of-factly.

“You could have written that,” Rick grumbles.

Carol looks unconvinced.

Rick starts to think of several irrefutable arguments, when Melissa decides to chime in. “Since we're all here—the Kree put a tracker on our ship.”

Genis sighs, in a way that makes clear that he thinks this is another sign of the universe being unfair. Una frowns.

“A what?” she asks, puzzled.

“I mean that they left something that will transmit our position, so they can follow us,” Melissa answers.

The Kree goes “ah” and then starts drumming with her nails against the table. “You can't go directly to wherever Mar-Vell is, then,” she says eventually.

“Does the bear shit in the woods?” Rick sighs. Then, he remembers that there are two aliens here, so he adds, “In other words, obviously.”

“Do you have any ideas of what we should do? Because if not, then perhaps you might want to keep your mouth shut,” Una answers. Rick holds his hands up in a conciliatory gesture, letting her continue. “You could take me to Station L-C—it's outside of Kree space, and I can find a transport that will take me somewhere safer than Earth.”

Carol and Melissa look at one another for a moment, and then the current Captain Marvel says, “That might work. We can lose them there.”

“What if we can't?” Rick asks, because he can't shake off the feeling that the Kree are going to persist.

“We need to get rid of the tracker, then I should be able to lose them, since this ship is equipped with a stealth module,” Carol answers.

“Well, we're going to a space station, right?” Genis says. “There's going to be a bunch of ships. If we put the tracker on one of them, we can have the Kree follow them.”

“That could work,” Una muses. “They likely won’t follow on sight, since then they’d not need to bother with a tracker.”

“They don’t want us to know they are taking interest”, Carol nods. “Or maybe they are just routinely being paranoid.” She hopes. But the thought keeps poking her, that they know. Well, thanks to Melissa’s enhanced hearing that won’t work. 

 

* * *

 

 

Once they've all eaten, they still have time to kill. Carol ends up suggesting another round of Pandemic, and no one rises any objections. There is some initial confusion, as Rick and Una clash over who is misremembering the rules, until Genis reads them aloud. That established, they get to playing. Unfortunately, the game being what it is, they manage to lose.

“This shouldn't be enjoyable,” Una says, shaking her head. “It's far too easy to lose, and I'm still having fun.”

“Are you sure you're Kree?” Rick asks.

“Are you sure you have a brain?” Una shoots back.

“Are you sure you weren't raised by a swarm of wasps?” Rick counters.

Una turns to Melissa and asks, “What on Hala are wasps?”

“Insects,” the young woman answers. “Pretty unpleasant ones—they sting and sometimes people die, if they're allergic.”

“I never thought about that before, but isn't the Wasp more of a villain name than a superhero name?” Genis muses.

“If we follow this line of thinking, then Wolverine ought to be a villain name too,” Carol points out. “Even more of a one then Wasp, since wasps have similar symbolism to bees, while wolverines are supposed to bring down animals a lot larger than they are—they never give up and keep on coming until either they are dead, or they've bled their prey out.”

“It's all about having something short and snappy, and attention grabbing—well, okay, maybe not short,” Rick adds.

“I would have thought you all would have picked more intimidating names,” Una chimes in. “I mean, Songbird sounds rather... cutesey?”

“Do you think Snowbird sounds cute?” Carol asks. “Because that is the personification of Canadian winter. Which is more or less as deadly as Russian winter.”

Una looks nonplussed at that.

“Very deadly,” Genis says.

“My name was meant to sound pretty,” Melissa elaborates. “It’s a bit of a complicated story. And I didn't really get an option—I guess Zemo thought I wouldn't think of something suitable.” She shrugs. “Besides, I don't want people to be afraid of me.”

“I am congratulating myself to not staying on Earth, right now,” Una says with a sarcastic sneer. “Although, I suppose I see why someone wouldn't trust you to pick a good name or dress yourself, Screaming Mimi. What was that frilly thing around your neck supposed to be?”

“Says the woman who paraded around Earth dressed in black straps and not much else,” Rick says dryly.

“And you—you ought to have told him-” Una tells Rick, while pointing to Genis, “that he looks like he's not wearing pants when he uses his powers.”

“That's quite enough,” Carol says. “Stage clothes are meant to be eye-catching, Una. I'm sure you've seen Kree performers wear those? They would look silly as daily clothes too. And as long as you do not catch a cold, how much clothes you wear is your own choice and business.”

Unfortunately, chastising one's players tends to end a game. Or at least both Rick and Una leave, equally insulted.

“So, do we play another round?” Genis asks after a moment.

“Yeah, sure, why not,” Melissa says. “They're adults, they'll get over it.” 

 

* * *

 

 

After two more games, Carol pretty much sends Melissa and Genis to bed, saying that they need to be rested—just in case. Melissa finds it hard to disagree—they ought to be prepared.

“They probably wouldn't bother us, if they knew I'm here,” Genis says eventually, eyeing the bracelet that is keeping his powers dormant.

“I think our initial assessment was that they'd send their whole fleet, if they knew?” Melissa answers, putting her hand over his.

“Yes, well...” Genis starts to answer and then shakes his head. “No, you're right. I think I should be able to take on a few ships, but a fleet might be too much right now.”

“You sound like taking on a few space ships on one's own is mundane,” Melissa replies.

“It's not exactly mundane,” Genis protests. “I just- Well, I know that much about myself at least.”

“I guess I expressed that badly,” Melissa says. “It's just that when you say something like this, I can't help to think how... little power I have compared to you. Or to all those other terrifying beings, like Thanos or Galactus.”

“So do the Fantastic Four,” Genis says after a moment. “I mean—have less power than me or Galactus. They still managed to drive him back. And my father was less powerful than Thanos, and still managed to defeat him when he had a cosmic cube. So, I guess, raw power isn't everything?”

Which is a pretty good point, given that she beat Zemo while he wielded two Moonstones and all her augmentations were disabled at that point. Melissa smiles, and rises to her tiptoes to kiss Genis's cheek. “That's a good point.”

“I... occasionally stumble over them, I guess,” Genis replies, as he turns around to pull her into a hug.

“Hey, you don't stumble over them, you think of them,” Melissa replies, and runs her hand against his cheek. “So, no trashtalking my guy, ok?”

“I can't say no, can I?” Genis starts to laugh then.

  

* * *

 

 

Genis wakes up as he feels someone touch his shoulder. He is tangled in his blanket, and sweaty, and by the time he manages to untangle a hand he realizes it's Melissa.

“You were having a nightmare,” she says, as he sits up.

“I'm sorry I woke you up,” he manages to say after a moment.

“We already talked about that, didn’t we?” She leans over him and kisses his cheek, before using a corner of the oversized shirt she sleeps in to wipe his sweaty face. “It’s alright if you wake me.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he buries his face in her shoulder. He feels her hand on his back, and he lets her hold him, clinging to her, soaking up her warmth. The bits of the dream still lurk in his mind though—the cold water in his lungs, the thin ice with something waiting underneath... Rick complaining about it made the elements of the dream much more vivid, and much more closely remembered.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Melissa asks.

“I already told Rick. Didn’t help,” he mumbles. “I’ll just have to wait till the novelty wears off.”

He feels her lips touch his temple. “If you change your mind, tell me.”

She keeps stroking his back, and slowly, he starts feeling less like curling up and hiding from the whole universe, withdrawing inside and denying the existence of everything else.

“I'm keeping you awake,” he says, but doesn't let go. Not yet. Just a moment longer.

“If I had a nightmare, and needed a hug, would you mind staying awake?” Melissa asks.

He nearly says it's different, but it isn't, is it? “No, I wouldn't,” he replies.

“There you go,” she says, and kisses his temple again. “I’m sure you’ll get to return the favour sooner or later. I’ve had plenty of nightmares, too.”

For a moment he considers getting up and going to the kitchen, but given that it’s not exactly a private place, he remains curled up around Melissa, letting her gentle touches sooth him.

Later, when he curls up in bed, he feels a soft rustle and a moment later hears purring beside his head.

‘Silly kitten. Get me, and I’ll chase off any bad dreams.’

But he was probably already asleep and imagined that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Melissa defeating Zemo, you can read the Thunderbolts run after New Thunderbolts. 
> 
> Genis and Rick did play truth and dare, in the Captain Marvel series from the 2000s. It was a lot less exciting than one might expect.


	50. Day 11, Part 1: Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in / Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove

When Melissa asks if Carol would like to spar with her, Carol agrees without any second thoughts. She sparred with most Avengers at least once, and so is used to mock-fighting opponents much more fragile than she is. And even when holding back, she has a number of advantages over Melissa—she's taller, heavier and stronger. But it’s not like Melissa's education in close combat had was neglected. Aside from the typical Mixed Martial Arts she would have been taught by SHIELD, there are a couple of moves Carol remembers from Clint and some others clearly picked from people who took fighting dirty to an art.

They spend quite a while circling each other, without anyone getting a clear advantage, all strikes being blocked or evaded, until Melissa asks for a break. Then, they sit down and sip water out of Carol's supply.

“You're good,” Carol says. “Really good.”

“I had good teachers”, Melissa answers with a shrug. “And not so good, but very efficient ones. I’ve also been doing this for a long time.”

Genis, who has watched them with interest, looks quite impressed. “I never really learned from anyone—I just sort of picked up how... uh... not get hit with a bottle during a bar brawl. And ever since I had the negabands, I just either punch things really hard or shoot them before they get me.”

“I could teach you, if you want to?”, offers Carol out of impulse. They’ll have to find something to talk about beyond fretting about Mar-vell, after all. And Melissa’s school work is limited in scope, given she seems to have finished quite a number of subjects already.

Genis seems to be quite surprised by her offer. “If you don't mind?”

“Not at all,” Carol replies. “Do you want to start today? I can show you a few exercises.”

“I should do exercises, anyway”, he agrees.

Melissa also gets up again. “Yeah, let’s do something more than sit around”, she agrees. 

 

* * *

 

 

In the evening, Genis is thoroughly tired. He didn’t overdo it, but it is still a novel experience to not have an inexhaustible store of energy. There’s a heaviness to his body that causes sleep to beckon and for once he is not afraid of dreams. Melissa is snuggling up to him, and Chewie is curled up on his pillow.

He feels… content, slowly drifting along a lazy tide of thoughts and watches his breath play with the young woman’s hair. It’s been so long that he could concentrate on something so mundane, to be just in the here, and the now and to listen to sounds happening just in his immediate vicinity. To see nothing except his immediate vicinity.

Right now, it consists of Chewie’s nose and the pink strands of Melissa’s hair. There’s white at the roots, which reminds him of his own hair. “Your hair is white?”

Melissa takes a sharp breath and tenses, then forcibly relaxes again. “It’s a long story.”

“So's mine,” Genis says. He didn’t really mean anything with that comment. Was this another thing you are not supposed to say? Maybe admitting he’s the same will help? Or make it worse.

“You dye it?” Melissa asks, and wriggles slightly so she can look at him—or more exactly his hair. She doesn’t seem offended, just curious.

“Mhm,” Genis murmurs in confirmation. “It's not a long story. I don't look very much like my father, and it kind of got tedious to hear people say that. So I thought if my hair looks more like his…”

Melissa sits up and leans forward to kiss him. “It looks good on you.” Then, because she must have picked up on his insecurity, she swallows and wraps one of the pink streaks around her fingers. “It’s not normal to have white hair if you are my age.”

“You weren’t born with it?” Genis’s eyes widen. He does know human hair goes white as they grow older – certainly Rick’s did when he was aging prematurely – but he never really bothered when this was supposed to happen. He does know being old is not fun, but other than the hair, Melissa seems exactly as old as she is supposed to be.

“No, I was born a redhead.” Once more, he can feel her tension and how she makes herself relax. “I dyed it various colours when I was a teenager: blonde, and even blue once. When I became Mimi, I had to wear the wig on stage and I didn’t bother dyeing it anymore. That’s when I noticed it was changing. It grew pale, and even pinkish and then turned white, until only the bits in front were red.”

“And now they aren’t anymore.”

“Yes. For a while, it was a pale pink that actually looked pretty cool, but then it grew fainter and I decided to keep a brighter colour, since that was what people were used to.”

He still doesn’t really understand it, so – because so far, Melissa has not been as difficult as Rick if he asks her weird questions – he decides to risk asking. “Why did your hair turn white? If it shouldn’t yet?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’d have to ask a doctor, but since none of the many check-ups they did on me over time found anything alarming, it seems to be just an anomaly. I mean, there are tales about people’s hair turning white overnight after a shock, or if it gets shaved off, and some people just turn grey much sooner than others, but I have no idea what applies to me.”

He takes a strand of the white hair and kisses it, before kissing Melissa's cheek. “Well, it looks good on you,” he says. “You're beautiful, you know?”

Melissa giggles softly. “That's nice of you to say.”

“Hey, it's true,” Genis says, and then adds, “And nice. So double-nice?”

“Double-nice, then,” Melissa replies and kisses his nose. “And you're cute.” 

 

* * *

 

 

What are friends for if not to listen to you whine when you need to? Carol had already listened to Jess list her latest troubles as a superhero mom, and now can unburden hers. Which, to be fair, are not yet troubles.

“I keep worrying,” she sighs. “The Kree are tracking us—what if they suspect something?”

“How would they know anything?” Jess asks in a reasonable adult voice.

“Well, why would they be tracking us?” Carol groans. “Or... or what if they're tracking us because there's some trouble and Mar-vell gets involved?”

Jess gives her another long-suffering look. “That's a normal state of existence for most super heroes, if you hadn't forgotten. Also, you can save him and you can have rescue sex.”

Carol has to give up any pretence of dignity then and starts snickering.

“Priorities,” she manages after a moment.

“I have them,” Jess answers, unashamed.

Carol slides her hand over face. “I'm probably worrying over nothing,” she says. It’s hard to keep on fretting when your best friend is doing her best to make you laugh, after all.

“You probably are,” Jess says. “Side-effect of being responsible for protecting all of Earth from space, I guess.”

“And knowing Kree,” Carol replies, shaking her head. “Well, it's most likely their usual paranoia—they don't hate me as much as most humans, and some of them are downright civil.”

“There you go,” Jess says. “You're doing fine. There's no reason to panic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, about Melissa's hair--it's been really inconsistent through the various flashbacks and since we're nice people and had a moment, we decided to share our ideas on why. Free headcanons for people, out for the taking!


	51. Day 11, Part 2: We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above / Dance me to the end of love

Melissa wakes up when she feels something stir beside her, and opens her eyes just in time to see Genis—or rather an indistinct shape in the dark that she guesses is Genis—sit up.

“Genis?” she asks, as she sits up and puts her hand on his arm. He turns around then, so that he’s facing her in full.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks.

“It’s okay,” Melissa replies, and pulls him into a hug.

Genis buries his face in her shoulder and she feels her shirt grow wet. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I’m such a bother to you.” He hesitates, but then says, quite apropos of nothing, “I bet MACH never was such a mess…” It probably would have been too low to hear, but her voice was not the only part of her that Techno and others fiddled with.

“Oh, Genis.” She kisses the top of his head, and wraps her arms around him. “Everyone at some point in their life is a mess.”

He manages a wry chuckle. “Then I’m just spending much more time in this state than other people.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Melissa says with a smile. “You could ask Erik about it.”

Genis doesn't answer straight away. He digests that for a while, and finally says, “Maybe I should talk with him eventually. When I catch my inner adult and drag him out.”

She nods and kisses him again, holding him tight, until he settles back to sleep.

For her, sleep doesn’t come so quickly, because something Genis said makes her own memories flare up. Catch her inner adult? That took her a very long time. And it was in a very similar situation that it finally happened.

 

* * *

 

_Maybe she should have suspected earlier. When Abe had kissed her outside Seagate, the way he took her face in his hands, looking at her like she was the most precious, most beautiful thing in the world. How careful that kiss had been, like he wanted to fix it in his memory forever. And when they embraced, he held on to her as hard and long as she did, was just as unwilling to let her go. And on the journey back, when nobody expected her to fly on her own and the others merely smiled she squeezed into the back of the Thundercar beside Abe, should she have suspected then?_

_But, no, they had both fallen asleep, and that she woke up with Abe’s head on her lap, was probably just accidental. And Karla’s knowing smirk that was just Karla being Karla._

_She was so glad to have him back. So glad he was free again, and she was no longer alone that she had not considered what all of this had cost him. No, that wasn’t true. She had considered, she had worried and been afraid. But to see him, seemingly safe and sound, OK, maybe a bit thinner, face a bit paler and the bones more prominent under his skin—that had put her fears to rest._

_Until that night. They had withdrawn, watched a stupid movie and gone to bed. And that night, she woke, alone. No, not alone. Reaching across the bed, she felt Abe’s back, found him curled up like chick inside an egg, clutching his pillow like a drowning man._

_“Abe?”_

_Something icy had woken inside her then, something unfamiliar. She’d slept like this, a child on the streets, turning her back to the world, protecting her vulnerability, conserving warmth. Making herself small. Before Mimi. Before turning cold and hard and deciding not to let anyone see her wounds. Until Abe came. And Hawkeye, and until she learned that Mimi wasn’t strength, but another way of running._

_Mimi would turn around and go back to sleep. Except the thought didn’t even occur to her in earnest. Just for completeness’s sake. Instead, the ice inside her turned to worry, and she got up, walked around the bed and knelt down so she could see Abe’s face in the faint glimmer of the nightlight. His eyes were closed, but his cheeks were wet. Had she ever seen a man cry? She could not remember._

_What should she do? She was afraid, floundering, out of her depth. She was used to needing someone to lean on, but that someone leaned on her? That had never happened._

_When they had brought back Erik from Kosmos, all torn up and broken, it had been Abe who took care of him. Sat up with him at night, cooked soup for him. And when Jolt – it still hurt to think of her – had been lost, and frightened, it was Karla or Erik who had comforted her._

_But now, there was only Melissa. Her throat tight, a bottomless pit in her stomach. Melissa, who had only ever run, and tried to find someone else to lean on. Her own cheeks were wet._

_She remembered he had done this to give her a chance. To be worthy of her. @#$% this. She could deal. She loved him and she could be strong for him. Carefully, she reached out, put her hand on his. She didn’t want to startle him._

_“Abe?”_

_His eyes opened, taking her in. “Melissa…” He reached out, running trembling fingers over her cheek._

_She closed her hand over his. “It’s alright, baby. I’m here. You are safe.”_

_He took a breath, almost like a sob and pulled her to him, hard and fast and desperate, and she held him, stroking his hair like she dimly remembered her mother doing. “It’s alright.”_

_It took him a long time to calm down. During this time, she held him, whispering comforting words into his, crying herself and aching for him, the heat of her anger and hatred for those who had hurt him so held in check by her empathy. Not that she had even known that word back then._

_When they’d finally settled back on the bed, and she’d wrapped them tight in all blankets, because Abe was still shivering with cold, she asked him: “What happened? What did they do to you?” She felt him stiffen, and rubbed his back soothingly. “You don’t have to tell me anything. But you can, if you want to.”_

_“I love you.”_

_“I know.” And she did know, because he had never been afraid to show her his feelings, his pain, even his fear and his weakness. And what else is love?_

_He didn’t tell her that night, he just held her close and eventually fell asleep again, a dreamless sleep of pure exhaustion, clinging to her instead of a pillow. And even with the warmth of her body, and the heating turned up to eleven, he never stopped shivering._

* * *

 

_In the morning, she was woken by the gentlest kiss on her right cheek, just below the eye. As she blinked, the kiss was repeated on the other side. She opened her eyes, and found herself looking into Abe’s, shining like the tears he’d just kissed off her face, full of a love and adoration that took her breath away._

_Nobody had ever looked at her like that. “Don’t cry, darling.”_

_She levered herself up on an elbow, for a moment thinking what had happened during the night been a dream, no, a nightmare. But the deep shadow’s underneath Abe’s swollen eyes told her differently. She carefully reached out, running her hand over his face, as a way to remind herself it was all real. He was here, and he loved her. He loved her so much it took her breath away and frightened her. “I love you.” She had said it often, and only now realised she never had even known what it meant._

_His arms wrapped around her, as desperate as the day before. “Oh Melissa.” He was shaking, stifling sobs._

_“Please don’t cry. It’s over.”_

_“I’m not crying because of what happened,” he managed to say softly. “I’m crying because I’m_ _happy to be with you.”_

_“I’ve never seen a man cry,” she said huskily, her own voice choked – which should have been physically impossible, since there was nothing in her throat that was capable of such things. “Not even my father after they took my mom away.” She felt him stiffen and kissed him somewhat clumsily. “I think none of them trusted me to be of any use to them, if they needed me. But you do.” She swallowed. “I know you love me. And I love you.”_

_Abe looked up and the expression in his eyes was difficult to read. Something she had never seen. He kissed her and his lips were wet and salty with his tears as were her own. “My love.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be Day 13. Nothing of interest happens on Day 12.


	52. Day 13, Part 1: Raindrops on the windshield / There's a storm moving in

As if to prove to Carol that the universe isn't always full of nasty surprises, nothing happens until they get to L-C station. That is nothing out of ordinary—Chewie wakes Carol up, because it's six AM and it's time to feed her. Rick and Una start bickering over drinking water, of all things.

Still, Carol feels almost suspicious when they get near to their destination with nary an obstacle in sight.

The station is a torus with about three miles in diameter. It’s garishly painted, and for some reason the top side, bristling with cannons and antennas is bright pink. It reminds Carol of the world's biggest donut. Everything is lively, with ships leaving and coming ceaselessly. Some are one-person transports, darting like small fish around a coral reef. Others are more alike to whales—large and majestic. Or as close to majestic as something that had been rebuilt, refitted and painted with a riot of colours could be in several cases.

Carol starts relaxing, when suddenly, Genis indicates a particular ship. “I know that one. The owner is Kree—I think she's some sort of a... military intelligence officer.”

Immediately, Carol glances towards the ship he is indicating. It doesn't look typically Kree, but now that Genis mentioned, there are elements that are clearly of Kree design.

“Her name is Shym'r,” he adds and then frowns. “Why do some Kree names have apostrophes instead of dashes?”

“Because some families are old and want to underline their ancientness by using antiquated spelling,” Una answers. “Rather pretentious, but some people will do anything to boost their ego.”

Genis gives her a doubtful look, before shrugging and turning back to the view-port.

“We'll try to get a landing pad away from hers and her ship,” Carol says. This doesn't have to mean anything yet, but they do need to be prepared nevertheless.

“I’m not going back in the tank,” Rick says, backing away, hands raised.

“It’s too late for that anyway.” Carol shrugs. “We just have to hope they are not scanning for you specifically. A human on a human ship isn’t remarkable.”

“Let's just get over with this,” Una says. “You're all lovely people and everything, but I keep expecting something to eat us at any moment.”

“Don't be so nice to us,” Rick says. “We might think you're getting soft.”

“I am soft,” Una answers dryly. “That's why I use lotion.”

Predictably, that makes Genis start laughing.

Carol chuckles, but then grows serious. “I’m not going to be emotional, but are you sure you want to do this? I’m sure Kree Military Intelligence could have a million reasons to be here… Or they could be here for you.”

“Or for you”, Una shrugs. “I didn’t do anything, I didn’t violate my exile, and if Ronan wanted to carry a grudge against me, he had years to act on it, why should he do it now?”

“As you wish.” She puts a hand on Una’s shoulder. “You can give me a call if there’s trouble, and we will pick you up going back.”

“Thank you.”

Rick gives an awkward wave. “Good luck.”

“Now you have a room of your own.” Una gives him a crooked smile.

He grins. “Didn’t occur to me at all.”

The others also say their goodbyes, and Una submits to a hug from Genis. Except she’s also hugging back. “Take care. I don’t want to find out in a few years the stories about you are true.”

“I will.”

Melissa shakes Una’s hand and whispers something into her ear. When Una frowns, she adds something else and the Kree laughs. “Never.”

Once Una has walked through the airlock and disappeared into the busy docking bay where several other ships are being loaded and unloaded and passenger traffic also is dense, Genis asks Melissa: “What did you tell her?”

“Nil illegitimi carborundum.”

Rick and Genis start to laugh. “I’d worry more for the bastards.” 

 

* * *

 

 

The first thing Una does once she has left the docking bay behind her is going for something to drink. With everyone on board being so boring, she enters the first cantina where the people clustered around the bar make the impression of being sophisticated enough not to drink hydraulic oil.

She orders something colourful, with flowers sticking out of it and retreats to a booth. Now she is glad that Marlo and Carol talked her into dressing less provocative. While some people look at her – she is the only blue Kree here – nobody solicits her and she can sip her cocktail and watch the people around the bar.

There’s all kinds of species, even a Skrull and some who could be human or Spartoi. One of them, a very tall, broad man sitting at the bar chatting with the Rigellian barmaid, seems familiar. She never met him, but she as seen pictures of him, she thinks.

Then her attention is diverted as the door opens… and doesn’t close again. The low key murmur of conversation stills like cut off and adrenalin jolts. Without moving, she looks towards the door underneath the cover of her hair.

Six Kree soldiers in the uniform of the Pursuer corps stand in the door, while a woman in a civilian jacket and pants scans the crowd. Some of the guests reach for weapons, and that’s when the windows burst, revealing a dozen more standing with their weapons drawn and ready to fire. A Warhawk armoured suit looms behind them, his sonic cannon being what made the windows explode.

The tension keeps mounting, but nobody makes any moves, given that so far, the woman clearly in command did not yet announce her purpose. Kree have no jurisdiction on this station, so her authority comes from the military might she brings to bear and whatever deal she cut with the consortium running this station.

The woman moves from table to table, flanked by two soldiers. Una doesn’t dare to follow her with her eyes, so she only catches glimpses, enough to conclude she is probably the military intelligence operative Genis mentioned. She's blue and the haughty bearing and the sharp features speak of an old family.

As she draws closer to Una, her heart begins to sink. So far, the agent has ignored several tables with people who seem very guilty and nervous. When she reaches the human at the bar, he turns, and Una sees he wears not a space suit, but one of those ridiculous superhero costumes with a big A on the chest. The niggling voice at the back of her head grows louder.

Although he hunches over like he is considering attacking, the agent passes him by and he relaxes again.

And then the circuit around the bar leads the Kree to Una’s booth. A hand lands on her shoulder, a heavy, leaden grip. “Una-Rogg, we have a few questions to ask of you.”

Thoughts race through her head, of diving under the table, trying to fight, screaming, but all she does is slowly get up and walk towards the door. One of the soldiers leaves money on the bar. “For the damage.”

She catches a move from the human, who is in the process of getting up, when the person beside him, another human male with longish, untidy dark hair, pushes him down again. It’s not like one human could do anything against two squads of Kree elite and a Warhawk.

Una is in a daze. She doesn’t even wonder what they could want of her, what this means for her – let’s call them that – friends. One of the soldiers manacles her and she doesn’t resist. They push her along, out of the bar, down the concourse, where this military spectacle has drawn a crowd.

A blur of faces, alien, colourful, and then there’s a glimpse of a woman, dressed in copper and gold armour, golden insectoid eyes set in an exotic, skull like mask. It looks like Ajes’ha, one of the chosen Eight, and suddenly the dots connect. The human with the A, and now a woman with Ajes’ha’s mask. She’s seen them while researching Earth databases, they are members of the Thunderbolts. How they can be here, she has no idea, but the thrill of discovery breaks her shock.

“Moonstone! Help me!” She yells and at the same moment, dives out of the grip of the soldier holding her. For a moment nothing happens, and as she hits the ground, hard, and feels a boot land on her back and hears three weapons being cocked, her stomach fills with ice, wondering if she made a mistake. Then something bursts, violently, the ground lurches and she is showered by metal fragments.

Around her the soldiers tumble, losing their footing. Unable to protect her face with her hands Una curls up as she hears weapons fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shym'r is an existing minor character from the 90ies Genis Captain Marvel series. We've updated her job and wardrobe, because 90ies.. :P


	53. Day 13, Part 2: The thunder rolls  And the lightnin' strikes

The warning klaxons start blaring without out of the blue. Carol peers out through one of the view-ports and sees people running from the docking bay. There's no smoke, so... well, it could be anything, but she can't help but to think back to the Kree ship Genis noticed.

“Harrison, scan the area,” she snaps.

Hopefully, Una had the sense to hide or run. Although, if Carol is right—and she really doesn't want to be—then she might not have had a chance.

Harrison's answer is far from comforting. “Discharges comparable to those of a Kree Warhawk detected, as well as small-arms fire, gravitational fluctuations and ionic energy.”

It sounds like an all-around mess to Carol, but it seems it's more than that to Melissa, who lets out a gasp.

“They're here,” she says and looks out through the view-port with wide eyes. 

“Who?” Genis asks, puzzled. Carol echoes the sentiment, feeling equally confused. She can't really remember any sort of Kree unit that Melissa might have fought with at any point of her career—but of course, she doesn't know all of it.

“The Thunderbolts,” Melissa says. And suddenly it all clicks into place.

“Oh, of course—gravitational fluctuations would be Moonstone and the ionic energy – Atlas,” Carol says as realisation dawns. Why at least Atlas and Moonstone would be in space, is another question, but Carol guesses the little communicator hidden in her helmet might have something to do with it. Are the Thunderbolts – just when did they reform anyway? – the mysterious help Steve offered her?

And then, she makes the connection: Steve Rogers and the Winter Soldier. The latter took over after Nick Fury—he’d be the obvious source of help in space. And she recalls that he was mentioned in connection with the recent hushed up jailbreak that she heard of from Rhodey. Another name in that context was Moonstone. Seems like someone is trying to give them a chance again.

Still, this is not the time or place to discuss it.

“They're going to be in huge trouble if they're fighting a Warhawk,” Genis says.

“Oh yes,” Carol replies nodding. “I fought one once. It was a damned walking arsenal.”

“We have to help them,” Melissa says urgently, her blue eyes huge with worry and starting to glow pink.

Carol’s kneejerk reaction is to ask “Why?”. Except kneejerk reactions come mostly from her upbringing and all those notions instilled by her father and some of her superiors in the army. All things she has consciously decided not to heed. Besides, letting your own cavalry take a beating because you are miffed about one of them is rather stupid. She nods. “Let's go—Genis, keep an eye on the ship, OK?”

The young man's hand hovers over the power dampener for a moment, and then he agrees. “I'll have Harrison monitor the situation—if it somehow gets too much for you and the Thunderbolts to deal with, I'll come.”

“Good,” Carol nods, as she reconfigures her clothes to form her body-armour. Melissa, already wearing her costume – has Carol ever seen her wear anything else, except for night clothes? - follows on her heel.

Then, they fly out to find the source of the disturbance. 

 

* * *

 

 

Everything goes wrong in seconds—as it is wont to. Bucky manages to keep Erik from doing anything rash—the blue-skinned woman is beautiful and likely in trouble, but that doesn't mean this isn't a legal arrest or anything else they should be getting involved in.

And then, she calls out to Karla, which predictably means that the alien soldiers start getting twitchy, and Atlas re-evaluates the situation and decides it is time to escalate the encounter.

Bucky throws himself off the chair, just as Atlas stops growing and punches the floor between the soldiers. The walkway shakes, and the shooting starts almost immediately. Bucky sees the alien robot charge at Erik, and then blue woman hit the ground.

Jolt and Karla are still nearest, so he yells, “Jolt—get the woman to safety! Moonstone—keep them off her!”

He kicks the nearest table over to give himself some cover and calls Abe on his comm, while trading shots with the aliens. They seem to be well-trained, as far as he can tell.

“What's going on?” Abe asks. “Is that gunshots?”

“We need you here,” Bucky says. “No time to explain.”

“We're on our way,” Abe answers and Bucky turns his attention back to the situation on site. Erik is doing his best not to get shot by the robot; Jolt and the alien woman are out of sight, although he can hear the crackle of electric discharge. Karla is hovering over the floor and pinning several aliens down. Their leader is yelling something and Bucky aims at her.

She ducks in time to avoid getting hit, but Bucky manages to take down two others.

And then a stray burst shatters the table, showering him with shrapnel. In the moment it takes him to get his bearings again, he hears Atlas scream in pain. It’s all he can do to dive out of the way as the giant topples, crushing everything that wasn’t pulverised yet.

He notes the beams fired by the robot changed in colour, and whatever it was firing now, had actually managed to get past Atlas’s invulnerability. At least he didn’t shrink down again, so he 'remains resilient against the small arms fire and offers a much more durable barricade for Bucky.

“Moonstone, engage that robot until Mach and Fixer arrive!”

He can’t see Jolt, but the blue skinned woman is gone. 

 

* * *

 

 

Locating the source of trouble proves not to be particularly difficult. A Warhawk is quite large, after all, not to mention this one giving quite the lightshow, as it keeps trying to shoot down Moonstone. True to form, Karla Sofen is proving to be a nuisance, and keeps turning intangible whenever it looks like she may get hit.

Carol is quite sorely tempted to leave her to deal with the robot, but she squashes the urge. Regardless of her experiences with Moonstone, she likely is with the other Thunderbolts now. Such as Atlas, who is sprawled over the concourse, and appears to be quite unconscious.

Not to mention, the Warhawk might damage something vital if it keeps shooting like that.

Well, too bad for it, since Carol knows all too well how to kick its ass.

“Melissa, can you create a force field around the Warhawk once I smash the louvres on its back?” she asks. “It will overheat and explode—we don’t want the station to take more damage.”

“On it,” the young woman answers.

Carol speeds up then, and smashes into the machine. It has no time to react, and only starts turning as Carol grabs it and flings it up, already smoking from the broken grille. A moment later a pink bubble springs around it, but the blast is too strong—the bubble shatters, only for another to enclose it, this one golden in colour. Turns out, Moonstone can make herself useful, on occasion.

Melissa waves towards Moonstone, then streaks over the concourse, using her sound constructs as a battering ram to smash aside soldiers. Their orderly formation rudely disrupted, Carol dives and lands behind the Kree leader.

“Stand down,” she snaps.

“This is the business of the Kree Empire,” the leader—a short-haired blue woman—replies.

“And those are humans,” Carol answers. “Stand down.”

“Our captive they have freed is not. So, get out of the way and stop interfering. Or that star will not protect you.”

“I just took down your Warhawk,” Carol points out reasonably. “Do you actually have anything that will threaten me?”

“Don’t say your ship,” another voice adds, as Abe Jenkins in full armour puts Techno down. Carol notes that Techno looks distinctly smug. “Because I’m afraid it’s not going to start listening to you any time soon. Count it as a favour—if you’d go against her, you’d have to buy a new one.”

The Kree seems to want to argue for a moment, but it seems her reason wins. “Have them hand over the captive, and we will forget this incident.”

“And what did they do?” Carol asks. She has a strong suspicion she knows who the captive is.

“She committed several murders,” the woman replies. “We have reason to believe she will not stop. A fair warning—this is not some misguided terrorist, but a dangerous serial killer. The only thanks you will get for helping her will be the deaths of your own.”

Carol has not expected that, but as reasons go, this one sounds actually quite good. 

“That’s a lie!”

Bruised and cut, stumbling and leaning on a slender Asian girl, Una looks decidedly worse for the wear. “She didn’t arrest me, she said she wanted to question me. Besides, there’s nothing she could arrest me for. I didn’t violate my exile!”

Bucky clambers over the unconscious Atlas to stand beside them and Carol feels a brief moment of self-satisfaction of having guessed it right. It seems that the Thunderbolts are part of Nick Fury’s wall now. “We heard it. She did.”

The Kree starts looking uncomfortable, given how clearly outmatched she is by now.

“Well, now I think I want to know what you’d want to question an exile about so badly you’d lie about an arrest,” Carol says. “Songbird, can you please escort Una back to our ship?”

Melissa nods. “I’ll take Atlas with me.”

“Good thinking,” Carol says, then turns to the Kree. “What did you shoot him with?”

“An ionic disruptor, I believe,” the woman answers. “If you change your mind, we will be here—I believe it would be beneficial for you to cooperate, but I cannot force you.”

“That’s settled then,” Carol says. “I hope I won’t be hearing from you again.”

The Kree woman makes a rather rude gesture.

The Asian girl - Carol doesn’t remember who that could be – hands Una over to Abe and before she even can react, changes into crackling blue lightning and tackles the officer to the ground. “Oh no! No getting away all nice, not before you tell us what you did to Atlas. Not before I know he’ll be OK.” She her hand balls into a fist and holds it mere inches over the woman’s face, electricity making her hair stand on end. That would be a nasty jolt… That’s when Carol figures who the girl is.

“Stop it, Jolt.” Wasn’t she dead?

“It’s a disruptor,” the Kree answers in the usual I-am-better-than-thou tone Kree tend to assume. “This means it disrupted his powers, not depowered him. Essentially, if he has ionic powers, it’s the same as getting an electric shock for an unaugmented being.”

Beside them, Techno obviously makes a scan of Atlas. “That’s right. He’s just out cold and he’ll probably have a headache when he wakes. But there’s no lasting harm done.” He shrugs. “Other than having to transport him like this.”

“Unfortunately, we could only offer to have the Warhawk carry him and you destroyed it,” the Kree says, “so you’re on your own there. Or is there something else?”

With a crackling growl, Jolt steps back and becomes human again, while Melissa lifts the unconscious Atlas with a sonic platform. “I’ve got this covered.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Kree Warhawks are battlesuits and pack a nasty punch. One shows up in the 70ies Ms Marvel series. Since they're smaller than Sentries, they're much more practical on a space station.


	54. Day 13, Part 3: He's headin' back from somewhere / That he never should have been

“Moving up in the world, I see,” Karla says to Melissa, as soon as they’re out of the ear-shot of the Kree.

“Well, it enabled me to bust your ass out of jail,” Melissa answers. “So, you sure you want to complain?”

Really, one can trust Karla to be a bitch at any given time of the day.

“Who said I want to put up with the feminist who ran around in a bathing-suit?” Karla snorts.

“Lovely,” Carol groans. “So, now you moved from confusing muscles with fat to slut-shaming?”

“Oh, I see why she has the Moonstone now,” Una says, turning her head around. “She has the blue attitude down perfectly.”

Karla, naturally, has no problem noticing she is being condescended at. “Do you think you’d do a better job?”

Melissa wishes she had popcorn, because this is promising to be something to watch.

“Probably,” Una says. “For one, I’d have known not to jam the Moonstone into myself—but don’t worry, no one is going to hold it against you that you’re from a primitive world and didn’t know any better.”

“We can always return you to that other Kree,” Karla shoots back.

“That’s quite enough,” the Winter Soldier says, before anyone can join. “Karla, this is not the time or place to pick fights. And Carol—I expected better from you.”

Carol does not seem all too impressed with that, but doesn’t say anything to challenge him either. 

 

* * *

 

 

No threat to the ship or Rick’s well-being materializes, which is something of a mixed blessing. It lets Genis worry about all the things that could go wrong, and he knows enough about Kree to be able list a whole lot.

There could always be an Accuser around, for example. Not necessarily the Supreme one—the regular ones are already one-Kree-armies. Carol probably can deal with that, he tells himself. Or Atlas could stomp on them.

And then he spots Melissa heading back. She’s not alone—there’s someone in armour walking beside her, and a dark-haired human woman. Carol and Moonstone are behind them, and even from the distance Genis can practically feel the hostility between them. Una—who looks quite battered—is sitting on a solid-sound disk next to a prone, but still huge, Atlas. Genis feels equally guilty and relieved about the last part. And then, at the very rear, there’s a brown-haired man with a mechanical arm and a black-haired one with some spider-like mechanism on his back.

It seems they were quite lucky—aside from Una and Atlas, no one else appears to be hurt. True, a Warhawk shouldn’t inconvenience Carol, but Genis has a nagging sense that this looks like it had gone too smoothly. Reflexively, he looked around, half-expecting… something, anything, but there didn’t seem to be anything remotely dangerous or suspicious.

Well, it likely is just something in his head and nothing solid. At best, he is just filling in what his cosmic awareness would tell him with suspicions, and at worst…

At worst, he knows the universe intimately enough that he doesn’t need cosmic awareness anymore. Which clearly proves to be the point when the middle of introductions is interrupted by the black haired, bronze skinned human – Fixer – saying “Three Kree cruisers just broke from hyperspace, with a small flotilla of support craft.” How fast things can go wrong. And yet, Genis also has the occasion to find out how professionals deal with emergencies.

A few tense sentences, then both Carol and the Winter Soldier – to Moonstone’s clear and obvious dismay – turn command over to Melissa, because they are professionals and she led the team the longest time and knows how their powers work. And she is more than equal to the task.

“Moonstone, Captain Marvel, Mach X, distract them, keep them off the station, prevent them from docking as long as you can. Fixer, take over the station’s defences. Jolt, protect Atlas. Genis, get Una on board, and activate stealth…”

OK, he is not going to stare at her like a love sick… whatever Rick would call it. 

 

* * *

 

 

Erik’s head is pounding—the last time it had hurt that bad, had been after a shore-leave he and everyone else involved had sworn to forget. And that time, his body wasn’t hurting like he had wrestled She-Hulk, Hulk and Thor, and then had a building fall on him. He’d love nothing more than to pull a pillow over his head and go back to sleep—but his groggy minds still registers a disappointing lack of any sort of pillow-like object under his head.

And noise.

He manages to crack his eyes open, but most of what he sees are blobs—two human-shaped ones nearby, some prone shapes on the floor and some larger ones in the distance that are probably buildings. Oh, and the light is definitely too bright.

Still, there is something- They were fighting, weren’t they? There was trouble.

He starts trying to get up, when he feels a hand touch his arm. The hand feels tiny, and he realizes he is still huge. How…

“No, it’s fine, you need to shrink, Erik,” Hallie says firmly. “Karla, Abe and Captain Marvel can handle it.”

Groggily, he wonders when and how Captain Marvel got herself involved into-

“What- What happened-? The woman…” he asks. There was a woman. She was in trouble—the noise must be the fighting that broke out.

“Una’s fine, but we need to get you somewhere safe,” another person says. A man—the voice sounds sort of familiar, but Erik can’t place it. There’s a hint of an accent Erik doesn’t recognize at all.

Shrink. He needs to- The exertion of triggering the impulse to get back to his normal size almost splits his head in half. A cool hand touches his forehead. “It’s alright. You are going to be fine.”

His vision is slowly clearing up and he can now make out Hallie and the other person—a young blond man, whom he swears he must have seen somewhere.

Hallie helps him up to a sitting position, her face full of concern. “Cheating bastards. Come on, we have to get you on board, then you can lie down again.”

The young man hesitates—Erik thinks there’s a moment when he looks like he’d rather run away, but then he crouches down too. “I can help you up.”

Even as dizzy as he is, Erik realizes that this probably is a better idea if he intends to walk. Hallie can lift him easily, but she’s much shorter than him still, while the young man looks quite tall, so Erik won’t be folded all over him like an over-large rubber doll.

He puts his hand on the man’s arm, and slowly, they manage to get up.

There is a ship in sight. It might be even near, but in his current state Erik feels like it might be as well a continent away. 

 

* * *

 

 

This is not a reunion Genis had been planning on having any time soon, but then clearly the universe has very negative ideas about his plans. The thing is, he doesn’t even know how he feels about Atlas—now that he remembers what happened, the fight or flight instinct is kicking in, but at the same time…

Well, it kind of feels like being angry at something young and helpless.  None of which applies to Erik Josten, but there it is. How the man managed to be a super villain, Genis can’t really imagine. Perhaps Purple Man or some other mind-controlling asshole had always been in his head until he became a Thunderbolt?

Still, it seems that for now he is spared interacting, since Atlas seems to be rather out of it, and the dark-haired young woman is taking up most of his attention.

They help him sit down in the galley, and the young woman starts trying to find out if Erik is recovering while Genis hovers next to them and tries to decide if he can just go or if he should stay just in case.

“Do you think they knew about us?” she asks, having determined that Erik is capable of following her finger with his eyes. “They had a weapon that could hurt Erik.”

“They didn’t have to be,” Genis says. “I’m not an expert, but in general Kree sentries and Warhawks tend to be equipped with an array of weapons, just in case.”

“I’m Hallie, by the way,” the woman—Hallie—says. “We haven’t met.”

“Genis,” he says.

“You’re Captain Marvel’s son, right?” When Genis notices he is probably starting to glow with embarrassment, she adds: “I mean the Kree one”. He nods. “Nice to meet you.” 

“I- um… nice to meet you too,” Genis says. And in case the part where she tells him he doesn’t look like his father has only been moved to the later part of the conversation, he decides to go back to the subject of the Kree.

 

* * *

 

 

“Generally, if you’re fighting Kree, expect something or someone to be a walking armoury or have a weapon that shoots and absorbs everything,” he says. As he talks, he sees Una enter with a first aid kit awkwardly balanced between her hip and her elbow. “Usually a hammer. A big hammer. Which absolutely does not mean anyone is compensating.”

Una sets the white box on the table and sits down next to Erik.

“Oh, Ronan was skilled with a hammer,” she says. “It was other skills that he lacked.”

Genis winces. “Can we please not go there? It’s like imagining sleeping with a tank. That wants to kill me. And then rolls over and falls asleep.”

Hallie giggles, in the way people do when the conversation is turning really awkward. Which it definitely did.

Really, he had already spent weeks trying to forget the image of sleeping with Ronan once. Twice was really too much.

“Let’s not,” Una says. “I think we’re upsetting the poor man who was so nice to protect me.”

And indeed, Atlas is staring like he has seen a ghost, his lips moving soundlessly. She tries to pat his arm, and winces. When she turns her hands, Genis can see her palms are all scraped and bruised.

Hallie gets up then. “How about we go somewhere where I can help you get that bandaged?”

The Kree woman nods and they both leave Genis with Erik Josten. There is a moment of long awkward silence that seems to stretch into an eternity. Atlas is looking everywhere, except at Genis and occasionally shudders and suppresses a groan. Finally, Genis grits his teeth and asks him: “Will you be ok?”

Atlas winces again, as if struck, before mumbling, “That feels like a hangover. Only worse than any one I had before.”

Well, that at least is something he can talk about. Probably.

“If it feels like a hangover, treat it like one?” he says. “I’ll get some water for you. And then you can try sleeping it off?”

The pathetically grateful gaze that Josten gives him, once more makes Genis think of small, defenceless children.


	55. Day 13, Part 4: On a sleepless night / As the storm blows on

Once Una is seen to, she withdraws to lie down. Hallie is just tidying up the first aid kit, when Genis comes in. She hadn’t actually had an occasion to see Genis-vell up close until now and had been trying to surreptitiously do so for some time now. The one time they had been more or less in each other’s vicinity was when Graviton was having one of his power-trips, and given how that went, she wasn’t going to count that as meeting him.

In human clothes, he looks kind of like a college-aged jock and not a son of a famous super-hero. He also doesn’t sound very much like one or the other, Hallie decides.

“So, how does Earth compare to other planets?” Hallie asks. It’s one thing being a human and seeing all those exotic places oneself, and probably completely different being from a completely different world than Earth and comparing it.

“Uh… Well, don’t listen to Una when she says you’re barbaric,” he says, while filling a bottle with water in the kitchen. “Most Kree have trouble accepting the rules their society follows are not universal or best for everyone.”

“So, kind of like conservatives?” Hallie replies before she can think better of it. Genis just looks at her blankly for a moment, until she starts explaining. “Well, you have those people, who believe the old values and traditions are best, and that you need to preserve them at all costs, even if they just benefit a tiny portion of the society.”

“You know that actually sounds a lot like most Kree,” Genis says. “Especially the blue ones.”

“But your father wasn’t like that,” Hallie says.

“As far as I know, no,” Genis says. “But then... er… well, it’s not like Kree society is a monolith. Take Una—she’s blue and a noble from a military family, so she was brought up with a certain set of beliefs. My father wasn’t a noble and was pink—they had completely different experiences growing up. Sort of like with humans, I guess? I mean, Chen Lu and Rick have different ideas about things, but they’re both humans.”

He takes a glass from the cupboard and moves back towards the medbay.

Hallie nods, following him. “So, back to my question—what do you think about Earth?” she says.

“Um… Nice, I guess?” Genis says after a moment. “I didn’t really see all that much.” He glances at her then. “You were one of the first Thunderbolts, right?”

“I was part of the team almost from the beginning,” she says. “For quite a while, I didn’t even know who they really were. But in the end, it turned out I still knew them better than Zemo did.”

Genis doesn’t say anything to that, only seems to tense at the mention of Zemo. Well, as far as Hallie knows the man had a talent for doing the worst possible thing at the worst possible time with the best of intentions. Likely, Genis had been on the receiving end of those good intentions.

Fortunately, by then, they’ve reached the galley again, where Erik is sitting and looking utterly miserable.

After drinking the water they brought him, Genis – this time looking much less uncomfortable – helps him to the medbay to lie down. He even brings a chair for Hallie so she can stay with him.

At least he doesn’t seem so spooked anymore. He even looks like he wants to ask her something, but after looking at Erik and her for a moment, he just leaves. She’ll have to get to the bottom of this later. 

 

* * *

 

 

Their flight from the station is hectic, leaving them no more than a few moments to exchange some words with Captain Marvel, revealing they were lingering around the station in case she needed their help. Another important fact the Winter Soldier kept from them. Norbert feels rather intellectually displeased, but then, the gig they signed up for is probably the craziest they ever had.

“Defend Earth from cosmic threats. Be the first line of defence so further lines will never know anything happened.”

Sounds like a fool’s errand. But then, he is a fool. And he knows a chance when he sees it. Travelling the stars beats lying paralyzed in a prison cell any day.

Besides, reverse engineering something Tony Stark developed in years in a few minutes is no small feat. Their new stealth module installed in their ancient ship, they cast off, dodging shots until they can pick up Abe along the way and then jump into hyperspace.

Meaning the Winter Soldier can leave the controls to their computer and has no more excuse to dodge questions.

“So, now we run personal errands for Alpha Flight? Or who is pulling our strings right now?”

Barnes sighs. “It’s a personal favour. For the guy who allowed us to escape.”

Wonderful. More riddles. Except. Norbert possesses more than half a brain cell, so this can’t be hard to figure out. In fact, the first option he hits on already checks all the boxes. “Rogers. So, we gotta help his girlfriend now?”

It doesn’t fail to get a rise out of Barnes, muscles tensing, but being kept on ice for so long apparently cooled his temper sufficiently to not snap about everything that annoys him. “Yes.” He does not let himself get baited into protesting the girlfriend moniker. “It’s a mission into Kree space.”

“And the Kree are objecting.”

“That’s actually something we will have to discuss eventually. Apparently, a lot of things do not add up here.”

Norbert feigns a look of shock. Really? Nothing has ever added up since the moment he was squeezed from the womb. Not adding up is the human condition.

“Whatever. Any more questions I can’t answer?”

“No need to get shirty here.” He gets up and stretches, always aware how amazing this sensation is. “I’ll catch some shuteye, and you ought to do the same. In my experience, this will only get messier.”

Barnes nods. “Yes, will.”


	56. Day 13, Part 5: She rushes out to hold him / Thankful he's alive

Carol isn’t sure how many of the Thunderbolts would appreciate getting an Alpha Flight sponsored lightsaber, but she can’t think of anyone but a Jedi being capable to put up with Karla Sofen for an extended period of time.

Unfortunately, unlike Rick, she cannot make herself scarce, since someone has to pilot the bloody ship. And the only other person in a state to have conversations is Genis, and exposing him to Karla is like pointing a cheerleading squad towards an all-you-can-eat buffet with only chocolate desserts.

“Doing charity projects now, are we?” Karla says, while Carol rolls her eyes.

“Look, I get it,” Carol says. “You’re trying to prove to yourself you’re not afraid of me. Can you perhaps do this in silence, so I don’t fly us into something?”

“You’re telling me an _ace_ like you can’t take a tiny bit of distraction?” Karla drawls instead of being sensible and shutting up.

“Flown any space ships? No? Then kindly listen and do as told,” Carol snaps. She really has absolutely no patience for that woman.

Karla, blessedly, does shut up then, until Carol has flown them out of danger. Afterwards, she engages the autopilot and turns to the other woman. “Alright, I won’t insult your intelligence by explaining what will get you booted from my ship.”

Underneath the helmet, it’s not really possible to read much of Moonstone’s features, except the ironic twitching of her mouth. “Just don’t assume I wouldn’t do it and we will get along just adequately until I can turn you back over to the people whose headache you are.”

When the other woman raises her hands, Carol waves her off. “Don’t bother with any witticisms.”

Karla shrugs. “That would imply I have to prove anything to you.” With that, she turns around and leaves the bridge.

Carol sighs theatrically. Being captain and being responsible and grown up can be so hard at times.

  

* * *

 

The last few minutes getting away from the station are frantic, and Melissa has no chance to return to Carol’s ship. So no matter how much she worries about Genis having to deal with Atlas and Karla on his own, there isn’t anything she can do about it.

She leaves the Winter Soldier – how can anyone call him Bucky, that sounds like a dog?  - and Norbert to deal with installing their new stealth module, and taking off from the station and hangs around the airlock, waiting for Abe.

Of course, by the time they finally pick him up, and he comes in, radiating cold and smelling of ozone and static, she’s tasting blood, having bitten the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. He takes off his helmet – this new one is looking especially inhuman, all red faceplate and no features – and smiles at her. “Hello Melissa.”

Any answer is swallowed by the hyperdrive engaging and both of them struggling to keep their feet. By the time the ship is stabilised, she has herself under control again.

“Hi Abe,” she says. It’s good to see him. It hasn’t been all that long, and they have been in contact, but Genis isn’t the only person in the universe with rotten luck.

“I’m still in one piece,” he says, apparently aware of her scrutiny.

Melissa chuckles. “I’m turning into a mother hen, I’m afraid.”

He puts his hand on her shoulder, the gauntlet heavy and cold. “Then I’m turning into Estelle Costanza, because I am wondering if you have slept at all in the last few weeks. Or ate enough, because you lost weight.”

She swallows. Everyone being concerned about her, that’s really nice. Gratifying even. But it also makes it very hard to fight down the urge to cry, because sometimes, and especially with Abe, who has always been there for her, ever since Zemo dragged her out of that forest, even the most iron resolve will crack.

He seems to notice, because he does not push. “I guess that means I have to dig up the old Jenkins cooking skills and see that you aren’t getting a bad impression of the new Thunderbolts.”

Her smile is very brittle, but she nods. “Not necessary, but I’m also not saying no to a free lunch.”

“Let’s see if I can make something meal-like from the MREs,” Abe says, motioning for her to follow him.

She follows him to their ship’s galley, thinking back to the old Thunderbolt days, when Abe was the one who consistently managed to produce edible cooking. Of course, that leads to far less pleasant memories, of the times when it seemed the whole world was against them and no matter what they did, they’d be the bad guys and how it all affected them.


	57. Day 13, Part 6: Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn / Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn

Melissa is present only in body, while Abe digs out something that might serve as a comforting meal. He won’t go as far as Erik and the Winter Soldier occasionally go, and won’t say that MRE stands for “Meals, Rejected by Everyone.” They were edible. Just barely.

“Earth to Melissa,” he says eventually. “Everything all right?”

She blinks and smiles at him. “Yes. I’m fine. Just… thinking.” She rests her elbow on the table and props her chin against her hand. “I guess I’m still not used to people being nice to me.”

“People should be nice to you,” he says, trying to give her a comforting smile.

“Well, not everyone is nice,” Melissa replies. “But that’s not really it.” She falls silent then, hair falling to obscure her features. “People seem to be very quick to expect the worst of me.”

He reaches out over the table – easy enough in this tiny room – and pushes her hair back a little. “I understand, but it’s wrong. If people treat you badly because you did the right thing, don’t take that to heart.” He smiles, aware it’s going to be crooked. “You remind them that they were in the wrong. Ignore them. Whatever they think of you, it’s their problem, not yours.”

“I guess I still need someone to occasionally need to be reminded of it,” she says. “Thank you. I missed you.”

“I’m just an email away.” They had made their decisions, after the whole clusterfuck with the Winter Soldier and Shield, but that doesn’t mean they were not regretting them occasionally. He’d trade places with her in a heartbeat, but Rogers had good points on why it had to be her. Except… “Is it that bad? At Shield I mean? Or is Captain Marvel giving you a hard time?” He’d have expected better of Danvers, given that she honestly tried to be fair to him and treat him like a person, not lowlife.

“No, no—Carol, I mean, Captain Marvel is really nice,” Melissa says. “Shield… well, I guess it’s a good thing I never expected a promotion anyway?”

“Hey, I’ve been there,” Abe says. “And I can tell you that staying somewhere where you will never be appreciated will only make you frustrated.”

Melissa doesn’t look convinced. “It’s not like- You’re an engineer Abe. With a degree. Peter Parker would probably hire you on the spot. I don’t really have all that many options.” Before Abe can say anything, she looks up, and it’s the stubborn look she gets at some points. “For now, anyway.”

“You know, most super-hero teams should be offering you positions as their field leader,” Abe says. “I’m not sure if you aren’t better than the Winter Soldier—don’t get me wrong, he knows what he is doing and has all the experience, but you can come up with ways people can use their skills together to the best effect on the fly.”

Melissa looks surprised and blushes—then again one rarely hears that one is a better field team leader than Captain America’s partner.

“So—that was Genis-Vell helping Erik, wasn’t it?” Abe asks after a moment. He feels somewhat awkward now—there probably isn’t a not-embarrassing way to talk to one’s ex about their current boyfriend. But given it’s the elephant in the room, he ought to mention it, before someone gets squished.

“Yes,” Melissa says. “There actually was a way to fix his powers.” She looks down at the table in silence for a moment.

“Is he… ah… very upset?” Abe asks, feeling doubly awkward. There really is no way for this not be somewhat embarrassing already, given their current relationship. Also ‘very upset’ sounds like an understatement of the year, given the context.

“No,” Melissa says softly. “That’s… that’s the thing. He’s not angry with me. I told him everything, and… it’s complicated really.”

Everything he can say sounds rather trite in his ears, especially comparing the first Captain Marvel to a saint and assuming that is a characteristic that can be inherited. So, instead he decides to a question. “And you feel bad about him not being angry with you?”

“Not exactly,” Melissa says. “I just… I sometimes wonder if he’s with me and he forgave me because he thinks he doesn’t deserve any better.”

It hurts to hear her say that. Still, before he protests loudly to make her feel better, he knows that isn’t going to help her in the long term. He’s known her for a long time, and he has seen her in both good times and bad. If she thinks this, it’s not just self-loathing. Before he can comfort her, he needs to find out what is behind this idea, as absurd as it sounds. “Melissa, darling, what makes you say that?” And just because he has to, he adds: “As kitschy as it sounds, being loved by you saved me.”

Soundlessly, Melissa starts to cry. Her voice, as she answers is calm, though. “Genis has been hurt in the past. Long before he came to Earth, and what happened here didn’t make it better. He thinks being with him is a chore and that everyone will only compare him to his father and be disappointed. That he failed at everything. I am afraid that he latches onto me, forgiving what I helped do to him, because I’m the only person who even will be with him.”

That sounds like a #%$§$ mess. Abe is no psychologist – and he is sort of glad Karla isn’t here – he doesn’t really know what to say, except hold her. After a while, he decides to go with his instinct. After all, now that he thinks about it, he has experienced something a bit similar. “You love him, do you?”

Her face buried in his shirt, Melissa whispers: “Yes.”

“Then believe in him. Show him you love him, be there for him, and even if part of him thinks he is not worth loving, eventually he will understand.”

For a while, Melissa is silent. Then she sits up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She looks at him and then leans forward and very gently kisses his cheek. “Thank you.” Her smile is very tired and he decides to let her lean against him a bit longer. “For your faith in me. And for doing the same for me, when I believed nobody would ever be there for me except for whatever I could give them.”

Abe strokes her hair. “I loved you. How could I let you be in pain like that?”

“Even though I probably didn’t really love you back? Probably didn’t even know what it meant?”

There’s only one answer to this. “You did love me back. In whatever way you could at the time. You had faith in me, you were there for me.”

She is silent for a while, clearly thinking. “Yes. And eventually, I learned. And could finally leave that part of my past behind.” Her eyes grow moist again, and she falls silent once more with the same far away look on her face, but this time Abe thinks he can guess what time she is thinking about. 

 

* * *

 

 

“I never answered your question—the one you asked after the whole mess with Gyrich.”

“You don’t have to?” She shivers slightly, still feeling part of the dread of that moment. Some things she probably doesn’t want to know.

“Back then, I didn’t want to think about it. It was all raw and painful still and I didn’t feel safe enough to remember. But in truth, the answer is ‘Nothing much’. It wasn’t any special terrible thing that happened.” He keeps stroking her hair, eyes growing distant. “It was the situation. It wasn’t the first time I was in prison, but it was the first time I wasn’t one of the guys. No part of us vs them.”

She listens quietly as he recounts what it felt like being unable to trust anyone, even himself. Being utterly alone, while surrounded by sharks, looking for the slightest bit of weakness. It wasn’t being beaten up by guards or thrown into solitary. It wasn’t all the punishment he took when preventing the riot. Even after he found out that he was not going to turn back into the desperate person he had been before, the strain was enormous. “And then the CSA came and I knew that I was in even worse trouble. It was my only chance, and yet I knew that if I made even a tiny mistake, I’d end up dead. And I’d possibly take you all down with me, if they found a way to spin my death into something that made you look bad.”

The picture he paints is a bleak one, but apparently it’s still not complete, because he continues: “It was a terrible strain. Exhausting. I didn’t notice while I was in there, but once I finally realised I was free, I was safe, I could let go…” His breath hitches, as even the memory is clearly still unpleasant.

“Then it all broke through”, she finishes for him.

“Yes. Nobody can hold out infinitely, can be in control, be a robot. Well, except possibly Norbert, but it seems not even him.”

Melissa manages a chuckle. “No, not really.” Suddenly, she feels very tired.

“Not even you.” He lifts her chin a little. “I don’t know what it is, but you look as exhausted as I was back then.”

And she is. She notices how she keeps bursting into tears over inconsequential matters, seeking a harmless outlet for the real pain that makes her want to scream and scream and scream. The understanding of what she did to Genis and to herself, how empty his forgiveness is because she cannot forgive herself.

“I watched the man I love being murdered and did nothing. And instead of killing me back, he has forgiven me and he comforts me. How can I live with that?” she asks, finally voicing the terror inside her.

Abe pulls her close. His voice is cracking. “You had to make a terrible choice and you made it, because at that point, there was no other way.”

“But how can he forgive me?” Somehow, Genis being angry and blaming her would make it easier. It would at least make sense.

“Because it is needed?” That’s a quote she thinks, but she can’t place it. “Did you talk to Genis about this? About your feelings?”

“No.” She shakes her head. It felt so childish to burden him with her guilt. “I told him what happened, I told him about Zemo, and he forgave even that.”

“Talk to him. Not about what you did, but about what you feel. Give him a chance to explain.”

He holds her like a child, and finally she feels some measure of peace. Of safety. She’s just so tired. Too tired to even cry.

“You are a good person, Melissa. You dealt with every crappy hand life threw you. Don’t despair. It will all turn out fine. It will be alright.” He continues speaking, but she doesn’t hear it anymore, exhaustion finally claiming her wholesale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if anyone wanted hints on why Melissa is having problems at SHIELD and why Clint was mad at here... Here's more hints!


	58. Day 13, Part 7: Will we ever know what the answer to life really is? / Can you really tell me what life is?

Rick decides to compose a song. It will be a hit, he is sure. The new hymn for the everyman and everywoman, surrounded by super heroes and super villains and super in-betweens, and their madness. It’s a tiny bit unfair, he supposes, but then he had to hide in a dark water tank for hours and now has to hide from Moonstone.

The latter is mostly his idea, but he’s not taking risks with a woman who was nearly hijacked by an ancient Kree.

Perhaps he should write a song about Kree?

With a sigh, he decides to let go the idea of a song composed of gripes and complaints. Those only seem to work if the vocalist can yell them angrily enough, and as Rick’s short flirtation with heavy metal taught him, he absolutely cannot.

Inspiration is such a fickle thing; he thinks to himself.

“Are you going to sit like that and look constipated much longer, or will you turn off the light?” Una grumbles from her bed.

Rick bites back several comments that are really not appropriate given that she is badly battered now and instead asks, “Are you feeling much worse?”

Una, being a creature of grace with impeccable manners, sighs heavily, “No. I feel wonderful. It’s such a bracing experience, being nearly detained and trapped in a fire-fight.”

Given that this is not going to be a fun conversation, if there is going to be any conversation at all, Rick gets up and turns off the light. They might as well get some sleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

Genis misses Melissa. He knows she will be fine on the Thunderbolts ship, after all the one Thunderbolt he’d worry about – Moonstone – is right here. It’s not worry that keeps him up, he feels incomplete without her at his side. Even though Chewie rests on pillow, purring and occasionally licking his ear, he feels alone. He worries what will happen when he has a nightmare, and nobody is there, not his father, not Melissa…

Finally, he gets up.

“Mrow?” Chewie eyes him sceptically, then she gets up too and moves towards the door. If you don’t sleep, you can feed me, she seems to say.

“Ok, you are a flerken. You will probably not explode from another can of food, I guess.”

He follows her downstairs. The ship is dark, only the emergency lights on, but everything is working fine according to Harrison’s monitors. In the kitchen, he feeds Chewie and takes a can of ice tea for himself. Then he sees the light up in the medbay and wonders if Jolt is getting any sleep.

She did look rather worried about Atlas. He takes another can of drink from the fridge and decides to pay her a visit.  After all, how likely it is that Erik Josten will be the one up and running? 

 

* * *

 

 

Erik has finally managed to convince Hallie that he does not need a nurse and that she can get some rest. Now she’s curled up on the other bed under a silver blanket and fast asleep. While Erik is still debating if he could get up and get something to drink, the door hisses open and the young blond man who helped him on board peers inside. He looks vaguely familiar, but for now Erik cannot really place him.

The young man looks around and freezes like a deer caught in the headlights when he notices Erik. Which is not exactly an unfamiliar reaction.

“Sorry—I thought um… Do you want ice tea?” he asks after a moment, and that’s when Erik places him. He recognizes the voice—it’s Genis-Vell.

“Thank you,” he says, and quietly wishes there was someone here to act as support. It’s bad enough that he nearly killed the poor kid, then he was a jerk about him behind his back and then he helped Zemo. Really, small wonder Genis-vell looks like he’s about to bolt. “It’s not going to make a difference, but I’m sorry-“

Genis-Vell shakes his head. “No. No, you don’t have to—Zemo had your brother. And there was the whole thing with- It really wasn’t a fair choice.” He puts the can of ice tea next to Erik, and then breaks the awkward silence again. “And—I’m sorry about- when I figured out about Purple Man and you—I was scared. I shouldn’t have said- It wasn’t your fault.”

“No,” Erik says quickly. “No, it’s not like that—I’m still sorry. About both. If I hadn’t thought that Melissa and Abe-“

“Then Killgrave would have found a different way to get rid of me,” Genis-Vell replies. He looks away from Erik and adds, “And it’s not like being protective of your friends or wanting them to be happy is bad-“

“None of that is a reason to kill someone,” Erik said. He manages to sit up. “I keep messing up, no matter how hard I try to do the right thing. It’s not your fault. It’s just me being stupid, as I’ve always been.”

Genis-vell looks at him with wide eyes for a moment and then seems to reach some sort of a decision. “Look, that’s definitely not true—first of all, that was not your fault, okay? Purple Man’s power can make you feel what he wants you to feel. And secondly, you are doing the right thing right now, aren’t you? You hurt me and you’re apologizing. And you won’t do it again. And you care about your friends a lot. There’s probably a lot of things that you didn’t mess up—it’s just that sometimes it’s hard to remember that because the bad stuff is painful and keeps coming back and back.”

Erik looks thoughtful. “Yeah… Sounds about right.” He reaches for the soda and tries to open it, but his fingers still tremble too badly. And if he applied more pressure, he’d probably pop it.

“Do you want some help with that?” Genis-Vell asks. “I knew this one guy who could do it with his tongue, but er… well, his species has corrosive glands in their mouth and I’m probably telling you something that you don’t want to hear right now.”

Erik hands him the can and despite himself starts smiling. “I was in the military. I’m pretty sure you’re not going to come up with a story that will gross me out.”

Genis opens it and hands it back. “Is that a challenge?” he asks with a grin. “Because that is a big universe out there full of gross stuff.”

 

* * *

 

 

Not for the first time, since Osborn had his Dark Avengers, Carol considers that domino masks clearly are much better at hiding one’s identity than one gives them credit for. After all, Karla Sofen may be as tall as Carol and blonde, but that’s where the similarities end.

“So, tell me, what mess did you get us into, Danvers?” Moonstone asks, a sardonic smirk on her lips.

“Only if you tell me why Clint put up with you,” Carol replies, since she’s starting to feel catty.

It had been more of a blind shot, fired in the hopes of distracting Moonstone and not something that Carol would expect to actually hit home, and the reaction she had expected was more sarcasm, not just a blank look.

“Is that meant to imply something?” she asks.

Carol looks at her, nonplussed. “You were a couple,” she says.

“I suppose he didn’t make much of an impression,” Moonstone answers and shrugs. Carol nearly says that this is not the impression almost everyone had but decides to let it go. There’s really no point in picking a fight that will lead nowhere and for no reason.

“Well, given that you’re suffering from localized amnesia, I guess I just can’t answer your question,” Carol says. She isn’t sure if she’s imagining it, but for a moment, it seems that Moonstone looks spooked. Odd as it may be, that is also not Carol business, so she just adds, “Sleep well, if you can.”


	59. Day 14, Part 1: Everybody knows what you've been through / From the bloody cross on top of Calvary / To the beach of Malibu

They only make one stop later, so that they can get back to their respective ships. Carol breathes a sigh of relief when Karla Sofen is safely sent back to people who appear to tolerate her for some unfathomable reason. And speaking of unfathomable reasons, Genis and Erik Josten are acting in a way that is less reminiscent of a spooked deer around a wolf, and more like two cautious puppies. After a brief discussion with Bucky, it’s decided that keeping them around until Mar-vell is safely out of Kree space is simpler than calling for them in case of emergency.

Fortunately, it seems that the Kree were fooled by Carol attaching the tracker to one of the other ships during the fight, and the stealth modules Tony Stark designed, so no one follows them to their destination.

It’s a backwater system that had been settled several thousands of years ago, and then abandoned, according to Harrison's scans. Una has no idea if that is the case—there is no way one can remember all the systems in the whole galaxy and which are inhabited, and which aren't, and why.

They reach the world Mar-vell is supposed to be on without any surprises, and Carol lands the ship near the weird forest, because if she's learned anything it's that if there's a forest on a desert planet and you're looking for somebody who just came back from the dead, the two will be connected.

Well, unless it's a trap, and the inexplicable forest is actually a part of a giant monster of doom, waiting to devour those who would seek to find out what a forest is doing on a desert planet. Then, they will probably end up in trouble.

“It's going to suck if that's some kind of monster that is pretending to be a forest,” Genis says, proving that almost everyone in the universe is suspicious of inexplicable trees.

Rick groans. “You had to say that? Now it's definitely going to turn out to be a forest monster.”

“I've met a tree monster,” Carol says. “He's pretty nice, if not particularly wordy.”

She really, really does not need a discussion on how the probability of a disaster happening rises when you name it. Really. Also, this is the point, when she realizes she is nervous—the schoolgirl before a test kind of nervous, mixed with “it's nearly birthday” kind of nervous, and apparently, the condition is contagious.

“Come on,” she says, as she unbuckles herself.

“I'm staying,” Una says. “You can introduce me later.”

She doesn't explain why, but then it's not all that hard to figure out. Introducing her will be awkward, and will require explaining some other things, and that will probably not exactly the best moment to do that.

“Keep an eye on Chewie, will you?” Carol says, as she leaves.

The flerken jumps on the control console and curls up there, giving them all a smug look. 

 

* * *

 

 

Mar-vell emerges from the forest just as the small group is done descending from the ship. As soon as they notice him, Genis breaks into a run, and all but tackles Mar-vell. They stumble back, before he regains his footing, and Genis buries his face in Mar-vell's shoulder.

A shudder passes through his son's body, followed by a sob, and Mar-vell pulls Genis into a tighter hug.

“It's alright,” he says, his voice barely coming out in a whisper. “I'm here.”

Genis lets out another sob, and manages, “I know, I-I'm happy you are and...”

He doesn't finish the sentence, but he doesn't really have to.

“I'm not leaving you,” Mar-vell replies, still unable to manage anything but a strangled whisper. He should have been there, for both of his son and daughter—he can't help but to think that, even though he knows it's completely irrational.

But this is not the moment to think about that—there will be time later. For now, he holds Genis and lets him calm down, until his son is no longer gripping him like a life-line and pulls away.

“I think other people might want to say hello,” he says giving him a sheepish smile. He glances over his shoulder, and Mar-vell follows his gaze.

Rick waves. The young woman who had been cuddling with Genis during the concert gives him a nervous look. Carol grins.

“I suppose they will,” Mar-vell says, and his throat doesn't feel so strangled anymore. It's good to see Rick and Carol—good to know they're both alive and well. He had missed both. 

 

* * *

 

 

Unlike Genis, Rick is not the kind of person who'd tackle someone into a hug. That is aside from the fact that he is not strong enough to actually properly tackle a Kree, so he isn't going to try. And he did not need getting nudged by Carol Danvers towards Marv, thank you very much.

Even if this time he did not end up with a bruise. He did take a hint, and before anybody attempted any further assaults on his dignity, embraced Marv. In a totally manly way.

He did not just think that. Now, he has the stupid song playing in his head and this is not the music theme for the moment at all. At least now he won't cry in front of Carol Danvers and Songbird, and Genis, because hearing J.D. and Turk profess guy love towards each other in one's head is definitely something of a dissonance.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he says and pats Marv's back. “You can join the People Who Came Back to Life club. I heard they have t-shirts.”

“There is one?” Genis asks.

“No, or I would have gotten an invitation,” Carol Danvers says drily.

“It's never too late to start one?” Rick offers, as he steps away. He thinks that his dignity is saved, but not for long. Marv and Genis are both giving him exasperated looks now, and he realizes this will now be a thing. He is the exasperating one. “Or maybe not. Adam Warlock and Thanos would probably have to duel for the chair of the president, and we don't want that.”

“I hope you never meet Spider-man,” Carol Danvers mutters.

Genis nods frantically.

“We met several times?”, Rick says a little nonplussed.

Mar-vell puts an arm around Rick’s shoulders and smiles at him. “It is good to see some things do not change.” And then Rick is finally blubbering into Mar-vell’s shoulder, while Genis is patting his back. And the universe is probably happy.

  

* * *

 

 

Rick Jones definitely is something like an adopted son for Mar-vell, and this is starting to be a bit of a scary prospect. Her closest experience to be a mother-figure is with Anya, who according to Peter Parker is now in some place called Loomworld and protecting the multiverse.

Though, at least Rick comes without the need of actual parenting. And there's still Hulkling, who doesn’t even know yet he is going to go from having no family to having a horde. Well, okay, no, not a horde.

She takes a deeper breath and reminds herself to deal with one thing at a time. Like introducing Melissa before the poor girl decides she wants to run away or something. She puts her hand on her shoulder and tries to catch Genis's eye. Which of course doesn't work, because those things never work.

And she can't elbow him either, because he's standing away from her.

“Um, shouldn't his clothes be red?” Melissa whispers. She sounds calm, but Carol notices that she has laced her hands behind her back to stop them from shaking. And she looks pale.

“No,” Carol says, as she squeezes her shoulder gently. “Those are the ones Mar-vell died in the last time.” And then, something else catches her attention. “Where are your negabands?”

“I took them off,” Mar-vell replies.

“That’s possible?” Rick yells. His voice hitches like a teenager’s.

“It always was, once we were no longer bonded. Just… I didn’t think there was a need. And eventually it was too late.”

“And now things changed?” Carol suddenly gets that yawning tip of the iceberg feeling, as she becomes aware that there likely are gaps in her knowledge.

Mar-vell nods gravely. “Maybe we should all sit down?”

“How about we go back to the ship, since there are chairs there?” Carol suggests. “And we still need to introduce you to some people.”

Mar-vell looks at Melissa, who is currently the only person he had not been introduced to, so Carol pats her shoulder and says, “This is Melissa Gold. Songbird.”


	60. Day 14, Part 2: Wasted and wounded, it ain't what the moon did / I got what I paid for now

While Melissa is far from inexperienced and naïve when it comes to how relationships work, meeting parents of her guy was not an area she had any experience in. Or rather, none of them had any parents they wanted her to meet, ever. Actually, she might serve as an illustration WHY parents insist on meeting the significant others of their children. So they can put their foot down in case they are dating someone like her.

And now the parent in question is pretty much a revered hero and if he wants to can ask the universe for gossip, he can do so. And find out everything. How likely is it that he has the same weird set of values as Genis does? Melissa squares her shoulders and can’t help feeling like she is going to her execution.

Then Genis puts his arm over her shoulders, so she manages squeak out a “Hello.”

It’s that bad. Her voice is usually the last thing that betrays her mood.

It doesn’t turn ugly right away, because Mar-vell is giving Carol the 'is this something I should know how to deal with?' look, but that does not make the perspective less daunting.

So she squares her shoulders, and says, “You might know me as Screaming Mimi. I was a member of the Masters of Evil, among other groups—and there’s a lot of other stuff—it might be easier, if you just ask what the universe has to say about me.”

Likely, honesty is going to be the best policy here. Hiding her past will only make her look worse then she already will.

Genis keeps his arm around her, supporting her, as Mar-Vell listens, his face – the visible part – completely still as he watches her. When she asks him to use his cosmic awareness, he shakes his head and he puts his hands on her shoulders. “You helped my son. When he had nobody else, you were kind to him. That is all I need to know.”

As Melissa sags with relief, he adds: “For the record, I am a traitor to the Kree, although the things I did in service to them are probably worse than my betrayal. Still, I am in no position to judge anyone about their past.” His smile turns lopsided. “And my son is an adult, who does not need my approval in case he enters a relationship.”

“Tell that to Hollywood,” Carol mutters. She slaps Mar-Vell's back, which seems to be the indication they really should get going. At least Mar-Vell and Rick take it as an indication. Genis lingers behind and kisses Melissa's head. 

 

* * *

 

 

On board, they are met by a very enthusiastic Chewie and a lot less enthusiastic Una. Mar-vell listens to her introduction with the same stoic lack of expression, while petting a purring flerken lying smugly in his arms. Finally, he nods. “Greetings, Una-Rogg.”

Then he turns to Carol and the others. “Any more surprise guests?”

“We had a little altercation with the Kree on the way here and the Thunderbolts provided back up. They are in orbit now in their own ship, in case we encounter more problems.”

“Who are the Thunderbolts?” Mar-Vell asks.

“They’re one of the newer superhero teams—I mentioned them before,” Carol says. “At the moment, they’re part of Earth’s defence against extra-terrestrial threats. If you want the full story, Melissa can give you a full lesson later. It probably will take three hours or thereabouts?”

She smiles at Melissa Gold, who gives her a nervous smile in return. “Something like this.”

Mar-Vell shakes his head. “I guess this can wait.” And then he, while Carol makes coffee and hands out beverages, explains why he is no longer wearing the Negabands.

A moment later he is getting hugged by Genis, and Rick is patting his back. He has a feeling that Carol would probably join, if it wasn't already that crowded. Over Genis's shoulder, he glimpses Melissa Gold giving his son the kind of look that is usually reserved for fluffy little animals.

Yon-Rogg's daughter is watching her nails, and pretending not to be jealous.

His thoughts are interrupted, when Carol says, “I wonder if you shouldn't just put the damn things on someone. I mean, if we seal them or bury them somewhere, you can bet that the worst possible person will find them.”

“And who would we put them on?” Rick asks.

“Luke Cage?” Melissa offers.

“Silver Surfer?” Genis suggests after a moment. “Not that it would make any difference for him, but then nobody powerful enough to steal them from him would actually need them anyway?”

“Hey, that's not a bad idea,” Carol Danvers says with a grin. “Give them to someone so overpowered it will be suicide to steal them.”

“We don't actually need to look that far, do we?” Una-Rogg says, measuring Genis thoughtfully with her gaze.

“Um, you do,” Genis says. “I um... absorbed my last set, so I'll probably end up in the Negative Zone or somewhere if I touch another.”

“We don't have to decide yet, do we?” Rick says. “It's kind of pointless while they're with Moondragon, and she should be able to keep them safe for some time.”

And just like that Mar-Vell starts wishing he had not let Moondragon leave with them. It’s irrational, of course—it’s not like Ronan or any other Kree who can fight Moondragon has reasons to take notice of Eros, but still. He can think of people who could take the negabands from Heather.

And the altercation Carol has mentioned also doesn’t bode well. His people do tend to pick fights a lot, but usually, if they are picking them with someone powerful it means there is more going on behind the scenes.

“I’m not so sure,” he says. “I didn’t think it’s strange, because the border worlds tend to have a harsher penal code than the core, but now that you mentioned running into trouble with my people outside of the Empire, I’m not sure if they’re not preparing for something and trying to keep outsiders where they can track them.”

Rick lets out a loud groan. “This happens every single time you’re here.”

Mar-Vell grimaces. “We don’t know yet. But I suppose you might want to warn the Thunderbolts that there could be more trouble headed our way.”

“And we definitely need to wait for Moondragon and Starfox, since I’m not leaving anybody behind for the Kree to use as a hostage, if they are up to something,” Carol says sharply. 

 

* * *

 

 

Rick probably has a number of things that he should apologize for to Mar-Vell, but the one that occurs at the moment to him are the stupid hamburgers. Probably because he is helping Carol and Marv prepare a vegan variant. He still has to shudder when he remembers the one time that he woke up and found Genis eating frozen pizza.

That had not happened again, as far as he knows, since Genis tended not to do things that would upset Rick, once Rick asked him not to. The problem was that clearly with food, each and every meal counted as a separate little shelf in Genis’s brain and needed an explanation on how to consume it.

Or if to consume it at all.

Fortunately, Genis and Melissa are now informing the Thunderbolts about possible complications and Una appears to have gained the power to teleport out of the kitchen as soon as it becomes clear that food needs to be prepared, so Rick can apologize without comments or making people feel awkward.

“I’m sorry about eating all those hamburgers and not listening to you when you asked me not to,” he says. “I didn’t know that Kree don’t eat animal stuff, and I guess I needed to experience someone eating frozen pizza while I’m sharing bodies with them, to realize how gross that must have been.”

Mar-Vell appears quite nonplussed at this and says, “You eat frozen pizza.”

“Not directly out of the freezer,” Rick says miserably. The poor, poor abused pizza. Apparently, he is not the only one who thinks that, given that Carol face-palms upon hearing that. “So, yeah, I’m really sorry about that.”

“You were young,” Mar-vell answer.

“I was being obnoxious, because you were not fitting in my idea of how the world works,” Rick says.

Mar-Vell pats Rick’s shoulder consolingly. “It’s fine. At least you’ve learned something.”

This would have riled Rick up even a few years ago, because it sounds so much like “I’m older, therefore I can judge.” Except by now he knows there are some people who truly can. He lowers his head. “No, really, I should write a list about what I should apologize for. And then rent a library to store it.” He sighs. “For someone who claimed to be your friend, I never really acted the part.” He buries his face in his hands.

Mar-Vell and Carol clearly communicate in some way, because when Rick looks up, he and Marv are alone in the kitchen. The Kree puts an arm around his shoulders. “You are my friend. And it’s me who has to decide that.” There’s a gentle smile on his face, as Rick feels himself start sniffling again.

“That’s because you are a saint.” The young man relaxes a little. “You did everything for me, and I begrudged you all the few moments you could spend in the material universe. Most of which you fought for your life. And mine. I wasn’t your best friend or anything. When I didn’t act like a whiney douchebag, I was an entitled brat.” There. He’s never said it that brutally, but he knows without doubt it’s true.

Mar-Vell is still smiling. “That is a very one-sided way to see it. I happen to disagree.”

Even though it is a rare occurrence, Rick runs out of words then.


	61. Day 14, Part 3: And goodnight to the street sweepers / the night watchmen flame keepers / And goodnight Matilda too

The meal is a bit awkward. Rick talks a lot, Mar-Vell and Carol act like teenagers, sneaking touches whenever they can, trying to do so without drawing attention. Melissa is silent, looks at her plate a lot and eats nothing. Genis puts his arm around her, trying to silently send her assurance, and knowing he fails.

Una is also silent, and alternates between arching her eyebrows at Carol and Mar-Vell when they can’t notice, and poking her food. Finally, Chewie decides to intervene and jumps onto Melissa’s lap, and proceeds to pretend that she is a tiny adorable kitten.

It’s something of a challenge, given that she’s a large cat, but she makes a valiant effort nonetheless. At least it makes Melissa giggle, and Chewie gives everyone a smug look over the table, before sniffing at the plate. She recoils a moment later and makes an offended sound. Her whole posture radiates disgust.

“Hey, you’re like me, you can eat anything,” Genis says, and starts scratching her behind her ears. “No need to act all fussy.”

“I think I’d rather she was fussy,” Melissa replies. “It’s my plate.”

“Well, no point in judging others for what they eat, then?” Genis says. Chewie gives him a long look and eventually curls up on Melissa’s lap again. He’s not sure if it means his point was accepted or if he’s being ignored. 

 

* * *

 

 

Mar-Vell looks quite out of place in pyjamas, which he takes with as much dignity as one can manage. “Well, I did want to get out of the other suit… And it beats Moondragon’s bathrobe.”

Carol, wearing a large shirt with a cat on front and sitting cross-legged on her bed, does her best not to snigger, but apparently it's not working very well, because he says, “No, it was not purple. It was white.”

“Your first uniform was white, too,” she points out as he sits down on her bed. “I guess it felt… nostalgic?”

There's a hint of a smile as he replies, “Not really. We would spend whole mornings complaining about uniforms, and the idiot who thought white was a good idea.” He puts an arm over her shoulders, and she leans closer to kiss his jaw. She can feel his warmth through the thin fabrics separating their skin, where their bodies are touching.

Mar-Vell closes his eyes and rests his head against hers. They sit in silence for a while, simply listening to the other breath. Finally, Carol decides to break the silence and military anecdotes are as good as anything for that.

“Hey, at least Kree uniforms come in sizes that fit,” she says. “The US Air Force only has two—too big and too small.”

He chuckles into her hair for a moment. “That joke sort of seems familiar. I didn’t even know you were military, too. When I saw you be a civilian, you wore dresses. And pearl necklaces.”

That causes her to smile ruefully. "Back then, there were almost no women in those fields. I was threatening to the men around me just by existing. I didn’t want more confrontation than necessary and that meant I had to make them feel safe. By dressing like my mother, and by extension also like theirs." With a chuckle, she continues: “It makes looking at pictures of those times rather weird for me.”

He nods. “I won’t mention it.” After a moment, he adds. “I guess I am retired now. Without the Negabands. Sort of.” He shrugs. “I'll need time to get used to wearing something else than my suit. Since I dropped Walter Lawson, I almost never wore civilian clothes. Any attempt at finding my niche on Earth always failed. And then I went to Titan.” He rests his head on her shoulder, “Where I still wore the suit, almost up to the point I died. It was who I was, for the longest time. There were times, when I didn’t know if I was anything beyond it.”

Carol is not having any of that. She turns around, and sits on his lap, then takes his face in her hands. “That was never what you were. You were so much more than a suit,” she says, and takes his hand, then kisses the inside of his wrist, where the Negabands have worn his skin smooth. “More than the Negabands.” She laces her fingers with his, and feels his other hand on the small of her back.

She can see his eyes grow moist and kisses him gently. “Without you, I'd never become who I am. You gave us a reason to believe we can make the world a better place.”

She feels his mouth brush against her throat. “I love you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You make me believe in life. When I had nothing, you were the anchor that drew me back.” Carol holds him tight, her own emotion almost too intense to bear. She remembers the last time he was in her arms, bleeding and hurt, back in the past.

“I will not let you go ever again”, she whispers. For a long moment they cling to each other like they are drowning, then Carol pulls him down with her. “I love you.”

There’s probably a lot they need to talk about. But that will have to wait. Right now, the physical need to feel proof of being alive is overwhelming and drowns out all other considerations. 

 

* * *

 

 

Melissa and Genis are lying in the nest that they made on the floor of their cabin. He’s on his back, while she is leaning against his side, her head resting on his arm. Both of them are listening to Chewie purring, while she forms a fuzzy ball on Genis’s stomach.

“I guess, she likes me as a pillow?” he says after a while.

Melissa chuckles. “Well, apparently she has decided your father and Carol do not need a chaperone. While we do.”

When he makes a confused noise, she explains what a chaperone is, making him laugh. “I guess I might be the sort of person people would warn their daughters about,” he admits. “When I was young, I liked partying.”

“I’m not the sort of girl to have one,” Melissa says with a shrug. “I’m the sort of girl young men were supposed to collect experiences with, so they don’t compromise the girls with chaperones.”

That clearly confuses Genis even more. “What do you mean by that?”

How can she explain that to him? Clearly, he doesn’t understand that sort of thinking. Except, telling him he will not understand, that’s the sort of patronising behaviour that would hurt him and she doesn’t want that.

She’s been silent too long, because Genis clearly picks up her distress and slightly turns to look at her. “Is this something you don’t want to talk about? Something hurtful?”

Melissa nods. “It is.”

Proving that his moments of insight are not owed to the cosmic awareness, he ventures: “That’s why you were so nervous meeting my father, right? It had nothing to do with having been a villain.”

“No,” Melissa says. “It’s just that I’m really not the kind of girl parents approve of. Not because of the whole Screaming Mimi thing—girls who run away from home usually don’t have too many options of how to survive.”

Genis doesn’t answer right away, only continues stroking her hair for a few moments longer. “And you were worried he won’t approve?”

“Mhm,” Melissa murmurs. “I love you. I want you to be happy. And your father’s approval matters to you.”

Genis falls silent for several minutes, so eventually Melissa picks herself up to look at his face.

“I love you too,” Genis says then, and puts his hand on her cheek. “And—look, I don’t think he will disapprove of you for whatever reason idiots back on Earth might—but if he does, then it’s too bad for him. Okay?”

“I don’t want to ruin your relationship with your father,” Melissa protests.

“You won’t,” Genis says and sits up. He kisses her forehead and then pulls her into a hug.

She wants to relax, but Abe’s words start poking at her brain. No matter how much she wants to convince herself that she this conversation just proved her fears unfounded, it will keep festering.

“Genis…” She untangles herself from his embrace. “Maybe who I was in the past doesn’t matter to you… And you really don’t care that the list of people who slept with me is longer most people’s phone book.”

He frowns and wants to protest, but she gently puts a finger on his lips. “Please let me finish or I’ll never find the courage again.” With a deep breath, she continues: “But how can you not care that I stood by as Zemo tried to murder you? That I let them do this you? How can you love me despite this?”

She fights her tears with all her strength. She doesn’t want to look weak and invite pity. She wants him to judge her without his emotions getting in the way. Except, Genis doesn’t seem to feel the same way. She feels his fingers under her chin and when she closes her eyes, feels him kiss her cheek.

“You didn’t do any of those things because you thought I wasn’t worth saving—if you did, you wouldn’t be here, you wouldn’t have been there when Mr Fantastic and Dr Doom got me out of the Darkforce Dimension,” he says. “You thought that there was no other choice. That it’s either me or everything else. I won’t stop loving you because you chose to save others.”

That’s when she can’t keep it in anymore and starts sobbing into his chest. Dimly, she’s glad of following Abe’s advice and of having let out some of it already, because otherwise she’d have burst now. Genis isn’t the only one whose powers can endanger a space ship if let go without inhibition.

This time she doesn’t just fall asleep. Although she is feeling spent, she’s also too excited to sleep yet. Genis still cradles her, stroking her hair and occasionally kissing the top of her head. On impulse, she leans back and catches his next kiss with her lips. He seems surprised, but returns the kiss carefully.

For a moment, she wants to reach up, draw him closer… Except she knows she doesn’t have to do it. Old instincts die so very hard, but here and now, she knows they can stay buried. This element has never been overly important in their relationship, and if at this moment she cannot trust herself to only act on her own wishes, then it’s better to leave the initiative to him.

“Are you OK?”

“Yes,” she says. “Now I am. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Mar-Vell's comment on the colour of Moondragon's bathrobe might be a bit confusing: obviously, Kree don't have the same colour-associations as humans from the XXIst century, so Mar-Vell would not find wearing a pink bathrobe embarrassing like a human. So, we thought what colour would it be that a Kree might associated with something embarrassing, and settled on purple, since that's the colour Kree privates wear. (The Kree army is very colourful, if anyone's interested.) Also, Skrulls wear purple too, though likely Mar-Vell was not conscious of that when he made the comment.


	62. Day 14, Part 4: And sometimes when the night is slow / The wretched and the meek / We gather up our hearts and go / A thousand kisses deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not panic! The story is not over. It continues in Book Two: Phyla-Vell.

Genis cannot sleep. Long after Melissa finally settled down at his side, one arm over his chest, he is still awake, looking into the dark, listening to her and Chewie breathe. Occasionally, the greenish lights of Chewie’s eyes open up, giving him a sceptical look, but he can’t relax.

He has not done anything but rest for almost two weeks and now he is recovered enough that even without his powers, his body doesn’t protest a sleepless night.

He doesn’t doubt his father will not mind whatever it was that Melissa hinted at. In fact, he is one hundred percent convinced of it. Except Melissa clearly is not, so he will have to get Mar-vell to tell her that in person. They shared minds, so he knows her life like he knows his own. Except, that doesn’t mean that he understands her thoughts. He has the facts but lacks the frame of reference to interpret them.

He simply doesn’t understand. Finally, he gives up. Gently, he extricates himself from Melissa’s embrace, while Chewie bonelessly slinks in under her arm, curling up at her breast, so she will still be warm. Genis brushes her forehead with his lips, then gets up and sneaks out of the room. In the door he looks back, and she is still asleep, the cat giving him a ‘go, go’ look, and he slips out.

The common area is silent, and nobody sees him as he climbs the stairs to the Captain’s quarters. Without thinking, he activates the door… He didn’t think. Didn’t think that he might wake them. Or disturb them. Might walk in on something. Didn’t think they’d lock the door if they didn’t want to be disturbed. Driven by his wish to talk to his father, he just opens the door.

And finds… The part inside of him that will forever belong to Rick screeches. The rest of him is sort of struck dumb as he sees the naked, entwined bodies on the bed. It’s nothing like in the porn that he encountered occasionally. Not thrilling, or shocking. Just intimate. Private. He is intruding, and he knows it. So, he turns and walks down the stairs again, frowning, puzzled.

His thoughts have fled his brain, and he is operating on autopilot and dashes water into his face in the kitchen. He doesn’t know what he feels. To be reminded of the stark physicality of his returned father like this is overwhelming. There are questions, but they do not register yet. He sits down, and stares, until he hears steps on the stairs and Mar-vell enters the kitchen, barefoot and in pyjama trousers.

He seems to be about as confused as Genis himself.

For a moment, they sit in silence, until Mar-vell eventually asks, “Did you want something?”

“It’s not-,“ Genis starts to say and then stops. Well, it actually kind of is a big deal, at least for Melissa so maybe he should rephrase that. “Melissa is worried you will not approve of her being with me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Mar-Vell asks.

“Earth stuff I don’t really understand,” Genis says helplessly. “Not that she was a villain. Something else. To do with who she slept with?”

Mar-Vell frowns. “I don’t really understand, either.”

At this point, Carol – in a shirt and shorts – comes down the stairs. “Everything alright? Can I help, or should I leave you alone?”

“You might be able to,” Mar-Vell says. “Unless you’d rather leave this conversation for later, Genis?”

Genis hesitates for a moment. “Just what exactly is that a human parent might disapprove of when it comes to their child’s partner’s sexual past?”

Carol gives him a bemused expression. “Depending on the parent, everything or nothing. If we’re talking USA, then a lot of parents might not like that the partner had multiple partners before. Or open relationships. Or that there is a big age difference.”

That sounds kind of like what he would expect of Earth but doesn’t explain anything still. And given that his father is still looking rather confused, Genis decides that it’s maybe time to be a bit more specific. “And what exactly would someone mean when they say they’re someone who young men are supposed to collect experience with so that they don’t compromise the girls who do get chaperones?”

Carol gives him a long measuring look, and Genis can practically see her going from point A to point G and then screech to a halt at Z.

“This question has an obvious answer,” she says eventually, “but I’m not sure it will help.” When Genis and Mar-vell both look at her expectantly, she says: “That means she is a girl of a low social class who doesn't have a reputation that can be ruined.”

“Why wouldn't she have a reputation?”

Carol makes a face. “Because in a society like that, many men of the upper classes would assume that a woman without a proper family would sleep with them if offered money or other advantages. But if a man made such an assumption about their sisters or daughters, they'd likely challenge him to a duel.”

“That sounds schizophrenic,” Mar-Vell interjects. “Like there are two different models for the behaviour of women?”

“There are. You have good girls and bad girls. And while sometimes this distinction is made on what the girls in question did, a lot of times it's only made because of their social class, personal history or skin colour.” Genis is listening with rapt attention, as at least some of it is starting to fall into place.

“But this doesn’t imply a parent would be against a man having such a partner? If they only have a problem with their daughters getting their reputation ruined?” Most of those attitudes Genis can understand intellectually, but he still doesn’t see why his being with Melissa would be a bad thing in the perspective of a parent.

“Because you can fuck bad girls, but you don't marry them,” Carol replies and makes a face at her own crude wording. “And if a guy got it into his head to do so, then he'd be laughing stock or get shunned, the woman would be treated like shit, and every other man would try to get her into his bed too. His whole family might lose standing in society.”

“It sounds sort of familiar,” Mar-Vell says. “A noble Kree might have an affair with a commoner, but they will only marry someone of their caste. It's about titles, continuing the family line—but since only legitimate children can inherit, it doesn’t really matter if there are any illegitimate ones in the picture.”

Genis flinches. “But on Earth this is all ancient past, right?” He tries not to sound like he is pleading.

“Mostly, yes. Society is no longer that stratified, and women have much more freedom of movement.”

“I sense a 'but',” Mar-Vell interjects.

“Yes. Humans didn’t skip from having no idea where children come from to having easy access to birth control and finding out who the father is, so the easiest way to make sure the children you were raising are your own was by controlling female sexuality. And that was traditionally done by presenting women who would have sex outside of specific socially acceptable circumstances as spoiled goods, basically,” Carol says. “And those ideas, that women with chequered sexual pasts are somehow bad or worth less, are spread around over most social classes now. Not everyone buys into them, but many do.”

“Well, I don't.” Mar-Vell shrugs. “And I really don’t see why I should, since it is obvious that you are happy with her.”

Genis smiles. He feels relieved and decides to excuse himself and leave them to whatever... His head is probably glowing in the dark again. Then, he retreats back to the safety of the room he is sharing with Melissa, so he can get some sleep.

When he slips under the blankets, Melissa stirs but doesn’t wake up. She only cuddles to him and Chewie migrates on his legs.

“I love you,” he whispers, brushing his lips against her forehead. “You are precious to me.”

As he wraps his arms around her, he thinks that he really ought to be more mindful of things. All of this, he could have learned so much earlier and now he didn’t know if he hadn’t overstepped some boundary simply by not realizing it could exist.

Melissa gives a sleepy sigh and settles against him, her head resting in the crook of his arm. No, he doesn’t think he did. She doesn’t give any indication of it, and their time together – as muddled as parts of it are in his memory – feels fine in his memory. But now he does know. And now she knows he knows (reasoning like this makes his head hurt), so he doesn’t have that excuse anymore.

He doesn’t want her to think that he is like the other men who would use her for only their pleasure. The mere thought of being lumped together with them makes him angry.

He loves Melissa, he wants to make her happy. In every way – but how can he know he won’t overstep any bounds?

Then he realises. It’s simple. He will wait for her to add this part to their relationship again. So far, she probably didn’t want to because he was not well, but he’s healthy now. He can wait for her. 

 

* * *

 

 

Carol and Mar-vell stay in the kitchen for a while longer after Genis leaves. He still likes Earth. But right now, what Carol told them and what his own cosmic awareness added to it makes him want to complain loudly about being very disappointed. And return the favour and walk down to Genis’s and Melissa’s room to give her a speech how he wants her to be happy and will do everything he can to help. Which would be about as embarrassing as what happened to him and Carol.

So, instead, he says, “I didn’t think this actually happens outside of comedies.”

“Hm?” Carol looks confused for a moment, before guessing, “You mean children walking in on their parent or parents having sex? I didn’t know Kree had this cliché, too.”

“Oh, Earth has it, too?” Mar-vell replies.

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t have become a cliché if it didn’t happen at all,” Carol answers, and shakes her head. Then she kisses Mar-vell’s cheek. “We could make a list sometime. Which parenting clichés overlap.”

He wraps his arms around her and kisses her. When he pulls away they’re both grinning. “Or we could go back and lock the door.”

“Or we could go back to bed and lock the door,” he says. 

 

* * *

 

 

Hallie doesn’t need much sleep sometimes. She has not yet found out why but assumes that it has to do with how much she uses her bioelectric form, or maybe with how strong the electric fields around her are. Since they’ve gone to space, her need for sleep is fast approaching zero provided she didn’t do anything strenuous. It’s not that she minds, it allows her to catch up on all the tv shows and stuff she missed easily or play computer games.

Sometimes it gets lonely, though. Then she prowls the few corridors of their tiny ship and listens at doors to find out if her teammates are maybe sleepless, too.

That way she notices that she isn’t the only one with trouble sleeping, because often she finds Norbert in the machine bay tinkering with the ship or his tech pack. First time, she tried approaching him with an offer of coffee only to be sent off because he was apparently grumpy.

Since then, she’s tried to approach the subject with the others, like is he maybe a robot again so he does not need sleep? But they don’t know anything.

So, she’s taken to watching him, trying to gauge his mood. It doesn’t seem like he is staying up because whatever he’s working at is so very interesting and engaging. Sometimes, he just stares off into space for minutes and once he fell asleep on his workbench. All of this points to good, old-fashioned sleeping trouble and Hallie finally decides to confront him about it.

“What’cha doin’?” she asks, as she enters his work-area.

Norbert looks at her, for a moment appearing not to even recognize her. “Hallie,” he eventually says. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I don’t need much sleep now,” she explains. “Something to do with my powers and how I absorb energy.” It seems that she may be able to get more out of him, since he already started the subject. “What about you?”

Norbert eyes her skeptically. “To what do I owe this curiosity?”

Men. Except for Abe and Erik, they always have to be poked and prodded to speak about their feelings. Hallie nearly rolls her eyes. “Because you do not have my excuse unless you turned into a robot when I wasn’t looking. So, you are sleepless for normal human reasons and that means something is wrong.”

He sighs. “Just when did you get so observant?”

“I’m not fourteen anymore.” She sits down opposite of him. “You can talk to me.”

Norbert looks at his workbench stubbornly. “I can talk to you, but what will it change if I do? Will you cluck around me more?”

“I thought you were our sensible team member?” Hallie just has to grin, because Norbert being grumpy is not deterring her at all. “You of all people should know that these things eventually bite you in the backside when you aren’t looking. I know it bit me. Do you want me to get Karla to explain this to you?”

Norbert’s shoulders sag and he sighs. “Fine. But can we get something to drink first? It’s a long story.”


End file.
